Be As One
by sjcrown3
Summary: It was his dark expressionless eyes giving way to a haunting grief that drew her in, and it was her dauntless approach, unforeseen but not unwelcomed that sparked his interest. Non-massacre.
1. first encounters of young hearts

******Disclaimer. I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters mentioned.**

**Summary. **It was his dark expressionless eyes giving way to a haunting grief that drew her in, and it was her dauntless approach, unforeseen but not unwelcomed that sparked his interest. Non-massacre.

**A/N. I want to start off by saying that the title has nothing to do with the story. In fact, 'Be as one' is an ending theme of Fairy Tail that I really enjoy listening to it occasionally. When I was choosing a title, I felt that the lyrics seemed appropriate for our favourite pairing in this fic. If you are up for it, I would suggest listening to it as you read. But ultimately, the choice is all yours.**

**This story jumps quite a bit, in regards to time and setting so forgive me.**

**There are many more things I want to say, but mentioning them here would be unwelcoming for you readers wishing to remain unaware of certain aspects of the story until it actually happens. Therefore, I will include a longer note later, perhaps at the completion of Be As One.**

* * *

The day his little brother came home with a sprained ankle was the day Itachi returned home from his weeklong mission, only to be greeted by a boisterous blond who professed irrefutably, his claim on the future position of Hokage, and the pink-haired child who possessed a thick book on the founding of Konohagakure in her backpack.

Mikoto had been in the kitchen, humming softly under her breath and slicing some tomatoes when a loud cry caught her attention.

In all her years as a mother, neither of her sons have ever brought friends home, and her knowledge on the subject extended only to the various names that were slipped into short conversations over the years. However, with Sasuke now spending majority of afternoons at the playground with the other children, there has been much grumbling about 'that loud-mouth dobe' and exasperated muttering of 'don't be so annoying!' That was why when her younger son came hobbling down the stretch to the Uchiha dwelling with his weight supported by two others, almost hazardously as they pitched dangerously to one side, Mikoto had let out an uncharacteristic squeal.

Pardon her. No, she had not just _squealed _at the sight of her son physically handicapped, but rather, her eyes had immediately picked up on the ease in which her little boy was in with the other two children.

While her youngest did have on the typical Uchiha scowl he had recently mastered after months of cutely scrunching up his face at the dinner table, much to the displeasure of his father, Mikoto could easily detect a few differences in his stance. One was the way he leaned into the others. It spoke of familiarity and if not, at least security in their presence and the absence of aggravation only made Lady Uchiha smile fondly from where she stood at the shoji door.

Only a second was needed to comprehend the blond boy with whisker marks praising his cheeks and the pale slim pinkette to be the Naruto and Sakura her little boy had frequently spoken of when he thought her too preoccupied to hear. While the pair did not seem to be children her son would choose to mingle with to Mikoto at first, she was more than happy with his progress in developing nicely into the areas of trust and bonds. If only she had more luck with her eldest. Her Itachi appeared disinclined to be in the company of others any more than necessary. At least he was not against associating with his older cousin, which no matter how long they have and would be in each other's company in the future, Mikoto failed to fathom as to why Itachi, cold and detached would affiliate himself with the anomaly of the Uchiha clan. It was a sibling thing then; both brothers were exactly the same.

By the time the trio neared, the Uchiha matriarch already had the icepack and first aid kit ready, seated neatly by the corner of the low table. She wasn't sure whether it was only a sprained ankle, or if it was more serious. Quietly debating whether to have Sasuke admitted into hospital after all, Mikoto sighed inaudibly at the thought of his subsequent reluctance and horror. She noted inwardly that Itachi was the same, albeit lacking the physical expression. Both her boys recoiled at the notion of coming within half a mile's radius to the medical amenity. Shaking her head ruefully, Mikoto rose at the sounds of sandals being discarded by the door.

Sasuke's face was almost sheepish when he greeted his mother politely. Good, at least his manners were still intact. She turned her attention to the two children on either side of him, each with her son's arm thrown over their shoulders. At their nervous expressions, Mikoto found her lips curling upward into a motherly smile. Instantly, they relaxed and returned the smile timidly before they were all ushered carefully into the Uchiha household.

With Sasuke seated and a cushion propping up his ankle, Mikoto reached for the icepack and wrapped it gently around the sprain. She suppressed an amused chuckle as three pairs of probing eyes followed her movements curiously. This must be the first time they've seen someone treat a sprained ankle.

Luckily, Mikoto had learned the basics of medical jutsu when she was a chuunin and her skills hadn't going too rusty since. She had no choice really. Her teammates brawled and fought incessantly, on and out of missions. One day, she finally had enough of carrying tussling teammates to the hospital and took it to herself to learn the art. She recalled the day two weeks later when three pairs of astonished eyes had also followed her movements, widening when the flesh knitted itself back under the warm glow of her chakra. Of course, it came without a doubt that having the sharingan in your arsenal quickened things up a bit.

"That's awesome, dattebayo!" A loud exclaim of amazement preceded the soft 'sugoi' that came from the child with emerald eyes when the Uchiha matriarch finished the job with some chakra healing. Even Sasuke couldn't stop his jaw slackening as he beheld the sight of his mother–_his very much domesticated mother who he had never seen use the ninja arts–_healing him with medical jutsu.

After bandaging the sprain as a precaution and stowing away the kit, Mikoto accompanied the children to Sasuke's room down the hallway. She smiled when the two children glanced around the manor and gaped at the different ornaments on display. They '_oh_ed' even at a pile of scrolls left by the table, and Mikoto found it absolutely endearing. How she wished her own two sons were less indifferent. It brought her a surge of exasperation at how Sasuke grew to increasingly resemble his older brother with every day, who he looked upon with unrivalled admiration and respect.

While Itachi did smile occasionally, however rare that may be, Mikoto noticed with rising concern that those fleeting windows to his emotions were quickly retreating into the cold and frigid shell he had developed over the years. She had seen the light fade from his eyes, and the two onyx orbs were now blank and inscrutable. The cause of this change went to none other than the clan's council. Now, at the tender age of eleven, the age of inquisitiveness and fit for spending time at the ninja academy, her son was an apathetic and skilled jounin going on reconnaissance missions, which could last up to months and all the while, preparing for the ANBU exams scheduled to be held in four months time.

Sasuke, on the other hand hoped to one day walk in the footsteps of his esteemed brother. While Itachi himself disapproved of his little brother's foolishness but had restrained from voicing his concerns, which would undoubtedly dishearten the other, the _old aged councilmen_ were a different matter all together. Urging Fugaku to encourage his youngest to become as accomplished and renowned as his predecessor, the old bats schemed to produce a satisfactory backup, in case Itachi ever became indisposed and unable to lead the clan.

Despite the tragedy that seemed to befall the two brothers, they seemed to somehow find time for one another.

It became routine for Sasuke to watch the sun fade on the porch that over looked the path leading directly to the entrance to the compound, and for him to grin at the glimpse of his brother's silhouette approaching from afar. Restlessly waiting for him to arrive, Sasuke would leap up immediately and run the remaining distance. As he grew in both age and size, the younger merely stopped before the other with a smile, as opposed to before, when he hurled his whole body at the teen and into those wide arms that engulfed him warmly.

"Nii-san, will you train me later?" The habitual question was answered in the affirmative and with a forehead poke, bringing a pout to the recipient.

Mikoto smiled wistfully as she recalled standing by the shoji screen and catching the rare smiles Itachi would display then. Fugitive but sure, his face would light up as his dark eyes followed carefully after his little brother, whose short legs tripped one over the other up the footpath to the manor.

The blanket folded up to his chin, Sasuke directed a grumpy glare to the ceiling before turning back to regard the three faces by his bedside. His mother barely quelled the knowing smile threatening to dawn onto her features. _Brothers_, she sighed. How maddening.

"You must rest to heal, Sasuke-kun," she chided him gently, but her tone was stern and brooked no objections as she swept a hand over the top of his head, brushing aside his bangs.

"Hurry and get better, Sasuke! Ramen won't wait for ya, dattebayo!" At Naruto's input, Sasuke's serene features turned murderous. _How dare the dobe imply I like ramen!_ An imaginary fist planted itself onto the blond's grinning face, conveying the thoughts of the other two – _you're the only one who likes ramen!_

Anticipating an argument to be underway, the rosette intervened. "Naruto, that's enough."

The blond's smile broadened, "If you say so, Sakura-chan!"

Turning back to her raven-haired friend, Sakura let a sincere smile grace her delicate features, "but Naruto's right. Get better soon, Sasuke-kun, so we can play together again."

With her hand grasped tightly onto Sasuke's, and Naruto moving to hold the other, an amiable atmosphere settled soothingly over the three children.

The matriarch felt her heart swell with overflowing fondness. Her throat was dry, and her eyes softened at the blatant display of friendship. Both her sons deserved more than this, more than what the clan had planned for the two brothers. Her hand was fisted, but before she let her fingers uncurl, Mikoto spared another glance at the three innocent children holding hands and resolved to do anything–anything at all for this bond to last until the end of their days.

Unwilling to intrude in their private moment any further, Mikoto made her way subtly to the door. But alas, she was unsuccessful in leaving without garnering the attention of the pink-haired child, who swerved her head towards her. The child caught her eye and smiled warmly, mouthing a soft thank you before the shoji door slid close. Alone, Mikoto let her composure go just this once and pressed her forehead lightly to the wooden screen of the door.

In the solace of the hallway and with the shadows masking her completely, the raven-haired mother wept silently for the children, _her children_, her shoulders quivering as the tears fell onto the wooden boards by her feet.

* * *

With their heartbeat in their ear, hidden in the dark and within the shadows was where every shinobi felt safe. Three figures flew through the enclosing forest, their tread light and brief without disrupting the night. Leaping over fallen logs and tree branches, they travelled in a triangular formation. With the moon high and its light illuminating parts of the road before them, the figures darted elegantly for their destination. Their pace did not waver, consistent and quick as the silence moved in on them. Emerging quietly from the vast greenery, the three shadows continued down the trodden path.

Shiranui Genma let a grin surface, the senbon in his mouth pointed down as the feeling of relief that came with the completion of a mission settled in. Their diplomatic mission in Mist went well, better than they had initially expected. In fact, it was the courtesy of their captain that the mission had been such a success. His brown eyes darting to his right where his captain was sprinting ahead, the jounin did not bother concealing his amusement. Blank eyes slid unhurriedly to meet his, and his lip trembled in an effort to rein in his chuckles.

Their captain, eight years his junior and also an emotionally stunted oddity had been nothing less than accosted and promptly harried by dozens of female, from toddlers holding their guardian's hands to old ladies selling fruit in the duration of their stay. Luckily for them (and unluckily for the stoic Uchiha), one of his admirers had been the beloved granddaughter of the Mizukage. Obliged to accompany the chatty fangirl everywhere she went, Itachi ignored the looks of pity and mirth his cousin and Genma sent in his way when they thought he was distracted. Though the impassive teen acted every bit of a gentleman, the occasional sighs, which were gone unnoticed, hinted his displeasure.

As it was, it was solely due to the perseverance of the Uchiha heir that the mission was completed in such a short amount of time.

Pushing off a boulder with a little more force, Genma quickened his strides as his other two companions pressed ahead. When the familiar sight of the village gate appeared in the distance, the jounin sighed, with sake and sleep in his thoughts. It was tough, going on a mission with two Uchihas, especially when one was Shisui of the Body Flicker and the other was the famous Uchiha prodigy.

When their captain finally slowed to a walk, it was to greet the two guards, Izumo and Kotetsu and to sign in. "Shisui, Genma." At his low voice, two pair looked towards their captain as the latter penned their names neatly on the sheet of paper. Laying down the pen and nodding to his fellow shinobis, Itachi turned to his team.

"I will report to the Sandaime. You two should go home and rest." His tone was flat, but not completely impassive. "We will meet at noon. Training ground three."

Both bearing matching grins, Shisui and Genma nodded as they revelled in the thought of not having to get up until noon tomorrow. The exuberant Uchiha slung an arm lazily over his baby cousin's shoulders and whispered teasingly, "spending some time with baby Sasuke?"

Though there was no outward response to his proposition, Shisui knew he had hit it right on the mark when those obsidian orbs flickered ever so slightly. He grinned and waving a dismissive hand, sighed dramatically.

"You leave me no choice then, Itachi-kun. I'll just have to report to the old man now and send you off to sleep."

His cousin looked ready to pull rank on him when–_thankfully, and about time too!–_Genma suggested that he should be the one to go, considering the Uchiha compound was on the other side of the village, whereas his apartment was on the way to the Hokage tower. Without giving them a choice in the matter, Genma had bounded onto the roof of a nearby building and headed off in the direction leading to the Hokage's office. Left by the village gate, the two cousins turned and together, made their way to the compound.

It was almost three in the morning when Itachi unlocked his window and slipped into his room. Moonlight spilled into his bare room, which was devoid of any personal possessions as the Uchiha padded silently into the adjoining bathroom. Twisting the tap open and letting the steady flow of water escape, Itachi leaned down and cupped the coolness in his palms. The muted sigh disclosed his satisfaction and the refreshing moisture on the tired lines on his face was heavenly. Soaking up the excess water with a dry towel, the teen retraced his steps and took off his gear. His exhaustion was clear in the deep lines under his dark eyes.

His clan's expectations for their heir were becoming more ambitious, and their superficial concern for his wellbeing was almost palpable. They urged Itachi to attend all clan meetings, as well as the monthly events and gatherings. No clever manoeuvres or straightforward refusals could deter the unrelenting councilmen for long, so there was only one solution–missions.

Volunteering his team for missions outside the village and himself for solo assignments in tracking missing-nins, Itachi knew it would not be long before they caught on and actively came looking for him. Even though his father had done all he could to hold back the council in their quest to mould Itachi into a stone-hearted and collected ANBU operative, and soon after, onto the pathway to kagehood, the clan would keep demanding for more, and their thirst for power would never be quenched completely.

As clan heir, Itachi must do something about this matter. Bringing it up to the council was beyond foolish. Perhaps he should confer the Hokage on this development and together, come up with a solution. Itachi knew that what he chose would cement where his loyalties lay forever, and his clan would never forgive him should he choose the village over his kin. The consequences would be dire: the Uchiha clan ostracised by the rest of Konoha, and bitter glares shadowing their revoked heir, eyeing him with distrust and disgust.

But wouldn't this be a small price to pay for the wellbeing of his family and his village?

Itachi slipped under his futon, his eyes heavy with the inclination to rest. He forced his mind to banish the thoughts plaguing him, at least until the morning. He would be more coherent then, and perhaps a solution to all his problems would come to him over his morning meal as he indulged in his mother's excellent cooking. But for now, he must rest. His body was still growing and sufficient sleep was necessary for his growth. His eyes slipping shut in the still darkness, sleep came to him quickly as his chest rose and fell with even breaths.

...

When morning came, bright and blinding, the Uchiha woke to the sounds of muffled voices in the kitchen. Running a hand through his silken locks, Itachi grimaced at the grime that coated his fingers. Rising to his feet, he retrieved the pile of clothes by his table and entered his bathroom with the sole purpose of cleansing himself from all the filth that had accumulated on his mission. He should have showered when he returned early that morning but he did not wish to wake his family with the running water. Sighing as he recalled how persistent dirt and mud could be, Itachi readied himself for a long bout of washing and scrubbing.

He descended the stairs to the passageway fifteen minutes later, dressed in standard black shinobi pants and a navy blue shirt with the Uchiha insignia printed on the back. He had tied his hair at the nape even though it was still wet, but his feet were bare as they made their way soundlessly to the kitchen. With each step, the muffled voices grew to discernible tones and casual chatter. Itachi recognised his mother's voice as it rang clearly, unrestrained by the cages made to smother the songs of lyrebirds, and it brought an uncharacteristic smile to his face. At his wife's relaxed tenor, Fugaku folded away his mission scroll and gave his undivided attention to the meal the matriarch had served.

A spirited yell was swallowed by the clinks of utensils and the sound of someone wolfing down their food with undisguised appreciation.

"Naruto!" A voice, distinctly female hissed in chagrin, before a loud thump followed. "Where are your manners?!"

"You hit hard Sakura-chan …" Itachi assumed the one who answered to be 'Naruto.' There was a huff of indignation and a bashful apology was offered. "Gomen, Mikoto-san."

Itachi knew that his mother must have been smiling at his quick honesty without reserve by now. "That's alright, Naruto-kun." Feet shuffling, and then, "eat as much as you want."

"YATTA!"

Itachi stopped by the hallway, just out of sight of the occupants in the kitchen. By their light tones, they must be children younger than him. They were probably his little brother's age, as it would be the most logical reason for them to be here in the Uchiha compound. Speaking of which, where was his little brother?

His inner musing was to be remedied in a moment's time, with the hesitant voice that broke his reverie.

"Nii-san?"

Itachi turned to fully face his younger sibling, and watched as those dusky orbs widened and a broad smile lit up the fledging's face. Sasuke tried to walk normally, but as he favoured his tender left foot, he limped towards where his brother stood. A frown marred his older brother's features, and Sasuke smiled reassuringly.

"I… accidentally sprained my ankle."

Reaching down to poke his brother in the centre of the forehead, Itachi fought for the right words. He did not wish to make his brother feel embarrassed, nor did he wish for a repeat of the same incident.

"Be more careful," his tone was soft and seemingly offhanded, but nevertheless, Sasuke took it solemnly and nodded once. Then, his eyes flickering uncertainly to the direction of the kitchen, Sasuke dithered.

"I…" Clearing his voice at Itachi's raised brow, Sasuke tried again, "I want you to meet my friends, nii-san."

Inclining his head in consent, Itachi waited for his brother to move past him before following. When the other looked unsure on his feet, Itachi placed a supportive hand atop his brother's raven spikes. To this, Sasuke felt his spirits lift.

...

The conversing came to a halt when the two brothers made their presence known. The first to notice them was their dutiful mother, who smiled at the return of her eldest. She took a moment to sweep her eyes over his body for any injuries he may have sustained, knowing all too well that her son would never instinctively pay a medic-nin or the hospital a visit. Finding none, Mikoto resumed plating up the food.

Only Naruto offered a curious glance to the duo, for the Uchiha patriarch had quickly returned to his scroll moments after their appearance and Sakura had stilled with the arrival of the boy standing calmly next to her raven head friend. She felt her young heart leap at the sight of the same boy from the markets, who she now noted, could only be Sasuke's older brother.

The grip on her chopsticks loosened. There was no question about it. It was only a mere glimpse; a ghost of a silhouette but her emerald eyes had taken notice of all the minute details. Those placid eyes that never wavered, the ashen shaded skin contrasting the long ebony hair that fell past his shoulders and his slender fingers poised in a light grasp as they held the ripening peach. Beside him, the storekeeper had rattled on about the guaranteed sweetness of the fruit, but it appeared to fall onto deaf ears, as the shinobi gave no indication that he was listening. The teen examined the fruit with a meticulous eye, turning it to the side to survey it further before slipping a hand into his pocket and taking out a few coins. When his customer requested for several more, the shopkeeper threw in more peaches with delight.

Her intrigue for the onyx haired teen would not have been should she have remained unknowing of what was to happen next. With the extra coins jingling in his pocket, the shopkeeper had been eager to get on with business. He had spun back, unperceptive to the old lady behind him and his sudden movement knocked away the coral apples from her frail hands. With a soft 'oh,' the grey-haired elder could only watch as her apples rolled away from her, and towards a pair of inky boots. Reaching down for her fallen fruits, she did not anticipate her knees to give into her weight and Sakura panicked when the old lady pitched forward. A pale hand shot out to break her fall, and grasping the delicate elbow of the elder, helped steer her up. After steadying the old lady, the teen had scooped up the fruits swiftly before returning them with a small smile to its owner.

The teen then turned to advise the dealer to be more careful next time before rustling brought him back to the elder rummaging through her grocery. Taking out a couple of tomatoes, she extended them to him with a toothless smile. Sakura watched from a distance as he declined politely, but at last gave in to her tenacity.

"There aren't many boys like you out there, dear," she rasped. The lady had hobbled off not long after.

Sakura had turned away then, stepping beside her mother as they resumed their grocery shopping. That should have been the end of it, but it wouldn't be. She would not have remembered him but for the brief look that surfaced his blank eyes as he regarded the tomatoes in his hands.

It had been filled with such raw agonising pain, and a sadness so vast that she became lost in it ever since.

Now at the sight of him and with the knowledge that the same torment she had witnessed still lingered underneath those unyielding orbs, Sakura couldn't stop her memories and feelings from rushing back. What could possibly be the source for such profound sorrow, so haunting and real that her heart squeezed every time she was reminded of those indifferent eyes?

Breathing carefully through her nose, the pink-haired child stopped her thoughts from diverting any further. Picking up her chopsticks, she forced herself to chew on the piece of meat coated lightly with soy sauce and she refused to peel her eyes away from the spot on the table she had resorted to stare at.

She didn't succeed though when she unconsciously whacked Naruto in the back of the head for voicing his thoughts without filtering it.

"Is he teme's brother?"

Itachi perceived the edgy silence ending when the rosette moved to physically reprimand the blond beside her. Her short pink tresses whipped at her face when she whirled around in anger, "manners, Naruto-baka!"

Naruto nursed at the sore spot, groaning softly. That was the second time Sakura-chan had hit him today!

"That's the dobe," Sasuke sought to get the introductions over quickly as he announced the blond with a slight tinge of irritation. "And that's Sakura," he gestured to the other and proceeded to retreat back into silence. Itachi noticed his brother's restlessness dimly before he realised that he was awaiting Itachi's approval.

Sighing softly at the lively morning, Itachi seated himself on the other side of his father, opposite of the pinkette and began to eat quietly. He needed to rectify his brother's dependence of his opinion. Sasuke joined him soon, brooding over Itachi's unresponsive nature and failing to decide whether he was consenting to his choice of friends, or otherwise.

"There's a clan meeting this afternoon," his father began from where he sat at the head of the table. "Will you be attending?"

Itachi did not look up from his meal. "Hn." _'No.'_

Fugaku grunted, but did not press the issue.

Lifting a hand to tug off the hair tie and letting tresses of his unbound locks to fall freely over his shoulders, Itachi was unaware of emerald eyes widening. He looked up to see them flicker away, and its owner spooning some tofu and then depositing them into his little brother's bowl.

"Tofu is rich in phosphorous, which helps your sprain to heal," she murmured before resuming her meal. But Itachi did not hear anything she had said, for he stiffened the moment she leaned across the table.

The whiff of peaches was nostalgic of the encounter that took place in the deserted dell when he was nine.

* * *

He remembered her from two years ago, when he first came across the innocent yet inquisitive pink-haired child. Or rather, when the rosette with the shy smile stumbled onto his usual training grounds.

It had been on the fringe of the Uchiha compound, where the dusty clearing dipped into the thick foliage of the Konoha forest. He had been resting with his back against the sturdy trunk of an aging tree, whose impenetrable branches and prolific leaves wove intimately to provide sufficient shade for the shinobi to delve cosily in. The sun had almost completely disappeared behind the fading horizon when Itachi finished the last of his katas, and only his austere upbringing stopped him from groaning audibly as the exhaustion settled in, deep and draining. As he retrieved his weapons, kunais and shurikens amongst the scattered senbons, the chuunin deemed it adequate to return to the compound at his leisure and gave an inward nod at the conclusion.

He had informed his mother of his decision in setting aside his afternoons to train, thus resulting in, more often than not, his unpunctuality for their familial dinner meals. Despite having made chuunin not three months ago, the clan councilmen have already expressed their… _desire_ for the Uchiha heir to continue up the ranks with ushered haste, much to his father's frustration. Mikoto had not uttered a single word of complaint during the deliverance of the clan's wishes, merely performing her duty as the Uchiha matriarch with detached civility, even though her disapproval was made progressively clear with every involuntary twitch of a brow.

He had succumbed to the tiresome nature of his intensive training, which had taken up all morning and persisting into most of the afternoon. With his legs stretched out comfortably before him and with disregard to the uneven surface of his support, Itachi reclined into the erect tree. The sky dyed in hues of crimson and marigold, his ebony hair fluttering with the gust of wind blowing from the west. Itachi tilted his head back, and breathed out a soft sigh. His eyes, dark and almost inexpressive slipped shut as the ends of his hair tickled his cheeks.

Before long, he had drifted asleep with the sound of gentle lapping in his ears. As the rhythmic flow of the stream trickled steadily downhill, the Uchiha's strained features softened ever so slightly. No visions of devastating warfare, or of frivolous courtships filled his dreamless mind. It was simply quiet, not a whisper to be heard over the deafening silence that consumed any levity that lingered. He did not know how long he was inert, for it seemed not a few moments had gone by before his senses pricked, warning him of the approach of an unknown presence.

The instinct that has been drilled into every generation of shinobi whenever they encounter an unexpected occurrence was to first assess the situation, which found Itachi doing the same. The rustling of faraway leaves faded into the wind and the forest was hushed once more. Another would have lowered their guard after the silence pressed on for several minutes, but being competent and thorough in everything he did, Itachi waited for the indication that he was indeed up against an enemy-nin.

He kept very still, the sound of his breathing discernible only to him. He appeared to be deep in slumber, with his eyes tightly shut and to a civilian passing by, he may have well been. Though in fact, his body was tensed and ready to pounce, or flee at a moment's notice. Different scenarios ran through his head, and as each thought caught up to him, he felt his chakra pulsing through his body at a subdued rate.

Training unaccompanied was always a risk. Should an enemy decide to make himself known, he would undoubtedly be drawn into battle with a half-emptied bucket. If he chose to flee, his opponent would ultimately give chase, and leading a foreign nin to Konoha would be hazardous.

Letting his senses scope and envelop the surrounding, Itachi patiently waited. He was not to be disappointed, for the sounds of branches being evaded and brisk hopping soon made themselves known to him.

Itachi had been reaching for the kunai hidden under his belt when he paused midway, brow knitted. _Hopping?_

He had no time to ponder when something small sprung from amidst the bushes and headed straight for him. By then, his eyes had snapped open and he watched as the animal, having sensed his presence, halted abruptly in the middle of the clearing. A silent staring contest was well under way until it stood on its hind legs, pointed its puny nose into the air and wrinkled it experimentally. Itachi took this opportunity to observe the creature carefully. One glance informed him that this creature was a bunny, or a related species, most likely an untamed one, going by the lack of collar. Its chestnut fur was decorated with light flecks of golden ivory, making it easy for the Uchiha to make out its features from a distance.

Itachi remained unmoving when the bunny cocked its head to the side, gazing at him curiously with its moonless eyes. As if dismissing him as a threat, the bunny sat back down after a short while, and proceeded to nibble deftly on a blade of grass. Itachi blinked, intrigued. Was it… _ignoring_ him?

It must be, he decided after a heartbeat. It seemed… at ease in his presence, which was something that has never happened before. Animals have always been wary of him, turning on their heels almost immediately once they became aware of him. Perhaps it was the intimidating aura that cloaked the Uchiha prodigy, or either it was due to the aloof demeanour that he exuded almost unconsciously.

Animals tended to steer clear of Itachi. Only the courageous ones lingered near, possibly waiting for some change that would ultimately convince them that the ninja was safe to approach. In the end, they all went away, none at all dejected. While he was, to an extent saddened by this particular circumstance (which inevitably meant that having nin-dogs as a future companion was a definite no-no for him), he had come to accept this fact over the years. No amount of coaxing or bribing has ever delivered favourable results, so it came as surprise when this petite-sized bunny, no bigger than a domestic-sized kitten settled sedately in his presence.

However, the trance was broken when its whole body stiffened minutely. Its ears perking up, the bunny listened for the telltale racket of menace. Itachi had just picked up on the slight susurrus of the forest when the bunny turned and bolted without forewarning. Itachi did not impress upon one to be at all outwardly nonplussed when the creature disappeared into the dense shrubbery and was gone without a trace. It was only when he dwelled on the possible causes for the bunny's abrupt departure that he heard it.

He hadn't known what had compelled him to do it, and for years the reason would not dawn on the Uchiha, baffling him beyond what he normally supposed as acceptable. But for now, his eyes would slowly slide shut with the approach of tentative footsteps.

Light, fumbling footfalls.

Soft, curious and uncoordinated.

_A child._

"Usa-chan?" The voice was faint, and clearly feminine, with a hint of slight dismay. The footsteps grew in volume as its originator wandered closer, and Itachi noted with realisation that the bunny that had been present merely moments ago must be "usa-chan."

Without further ado, Itachi had managed to connect the dots, so to speak, of the events leading up to this point. The child had probably been occupied elsewhere when the appearance of the small and delicate animal diverted her attention. The bunny, having piqued the interest of the young child, had fled swiftly when the latter exhibited signs of entertaining herself with it. And somehow, the chase had led the pair to his training grounds. Assuming the child to have been at the playground, it would have been a considerable distance to chance upon this clearing, which was situated on the opposite side of the village.

Itachi was surprised she hadn't gone astray. It required a level of skill to navigate through the lush uncultivated forest, and for a child to do so impressed upon him. A prior check on her chakra levels related to him of her civilian background.

The sound of a body emerging from the undergrowth was apprehended, and a touch curious as to whom those footfalls belonged to, Itachi moderated his breathing with ease and feigned sleep. Dimly, he heard the light shuffling of shoes along the stony terrain come closer, toward where he was positioned against a tree. She stopped two feet away, and uncertainty permeated the air. There was a sharp intake of breath, so soft that it would have gone unnoticed if Itachi had not been attuned to the various expressions of the body.

The young prodigy felt, rather than heard the hesitant squeeze of the other's fingers on her upper arm. Then, she closed the distance between them and was not two inches away when she knelt by his side. At this, Itachi forced himself not to wrap his fingers around her neck and snap it cleanly with the uncalled for invasion of his personal space.

The scent of peaches wafted his senses when she leaned closer, and her breath fanned across his cheek. Through his closed lids, Itachi glimpsed her silhouette blocking the residues of the declining sunlight. The hand palming his stomach twitched minutely. Perhaps he should have left when he became aware of a nearing presence, and he would have been long gone by the time she came upon the recently vacated grounds.

Momentarily engaged in the world of would-be's, Itachi only vacantly heard the rustle of fabric before something cool was applied onto his cheek. _Salve_, he noted duly when the wound stung slightly. It came to him a little later that he must have cut himself with a kunai when he was practicing earlier on, with his attempt to identify and neutralise the blind spots of the sharingan.

A million thoughts intruded his chaotic mind when the tips of her fingers lifted and shifted away to the cut that marred his other cheek. Her dainty fingers, uncalloused and smooth were gentle on his skin. When the child had approached him, Itachi couldn't halt the wave of puzzlement that washed over him as no child has ever voluntarily approached him without ill-intentions, barring his little brother whose brooding self gave way to unparalleled joy when his elder sibling was present. He mostly kept away from the village children, for they saw him as an ordinary adult, and with the unfazed stern face, it should not be unexpected. In his clan, the boys often congregated in groups and when Itachi walked towards their general direction, they would cease their whispers and stammer a polite greeting before hurrying away. As for the girls… Itachi mentally sighed. During the days he was exempt from missions and clan affairs, there would always be a succession of girls, some older and some younger than him who trailed his footsteps, from sunrise to sundown should he decline throwing them off. Thus were the reasons why Itachi was unacquainted to the concepts of friendship and bonding, and why he grew wary with the arrival of the civilian child.

Her boldness intrigued him in a way. To the shinobi of his village, Itachi was a somewhat withdrawn individual. Yes, he was merely a child, but he was also a genius climbing the ranks in quick progression. With unprecedented potential, one may argue, he had the capacity to become something of remarkability in the near future. In response to his apparent advantage in possessing one of Konoha's prided blood limits, fellow ninja of the same age grew spiteful of his supposedly egotistic and insufferable arrogance. They didn't bother to befriend him and to understand his intentions, deeming him as such without giving much thought of it potentially being an untruth. For a civilian child to approach him, and without a hint of fear of the repercussions, proceed to treat his wounds, no matter how minor and non-life threatening they were was unfamiliar to the Uchiha heir. It gave him hope, a small spark of warmth within him of the innocence and unworldly eyes that hasn't yet perished from existence, despite the seasoned nature of the shinobi.

It was only later when the pads of her fingers, light on his skin, receded with the flurry of wind did onyx eyes slip open slowly. The darkened sky, starless and quiet looked down upon him and he glanced away, just to see rose pink dance away into the verdure.


	2. her curiosity & his intrigue

**A/N. Thank you readers for your support :)**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I wish you all a Merry Christmas. May there be joy and love in all your households this Christmas!**

* * *

"Stop moving, little bride. You're ruining the makeup."

A pair of strong hands turned her swiftly to face the mirror. Sakura suppressed the compulsion to stick her tongue out waywardly like a child, for she would no longer be one after tonight.

The woman in the reflection huffed, her painted red lips pouting.

Behind her, a woman with hazel eyes and fang-like markings embellishing both her cheeks leaned down. "Look," she pointed a finger to the woman staring back at them.

Sakura looked, and bright emerald green eyes looked back, observing her quietly. Rosy locks that were curled at the ends framed her small angular face, and the woman, flushed in a healthy shade of pink was bathed vividly in the candlelight. The thin column of her neck was pale, bared of any jewellery but her pastel hair was carefully adorned with kanzashi ornaments. A strand of light-coloured blossoms was placed on the crown of her head, and as it wounded behind her ears, became hidden from jade eyes. An accessory comb with petals of sapphire and pieces of gem trimming its edges was tucked comfortably into the back.

Sakura inhaled sharply, eyes disbelieving. The woman was beautiful.

Sakura felt her lips tremble and tears sprung to the corners of her eyes. When she spoke, her voice sounded soft and breathless.

"Thank you, Hana-san."

Hana merely squeezed her shoulders, before the Inuzuka reminded her exasperatedly. "Makeup, Sakura!"

Startled, Sakura hurriedly dabbed the corners of her emerald orbs before any of her tears could smudge the thin line of black. At Hana's slight annoyance, the pinkette bit back a smile. It still felt weird to see the laidback kunoichi so agitated over her makeup. Time did change people. Sakura recalled the first time she went on a mission with Team 1, when she had learnt of Hana's interest in furthering her medical ninjutsu.

They had stayed up all night, conversing softly by the dying embers so not to wake the others and discussing the different ways chakra could be used for tracking. The friendship between the two kunoichi had evolved quickly, and since then, the two were as close as sisters. And when Sakura became engaged and thus had to pick an attendant for her wedding, the Inuzuka had been the first to come to mind.

Just the thought of the impending ceremony brought back the nervousness Sakura had barely been able to put aside the past two hours. Her restlessness surfaced speedily, and the pink-haired kunoichi shifted in her seat. Marriage was one of the few things that a woman looked forward to most in life, and it was the same for Sakura.

Biting into the inside of her cheek, she failed to quell her worrisome thoughts from reaching irrational. _What if she trips over her kimono as she walks down the aisle? What if the food isn't up to standard?_ She _knew_ she shouldn't have listened to Ino-pig. Horror enveloped her like the cloaking night, dark and ominous. What if she had chosen the wrong menu, and the guests were enraged because of it?

But all these paled to the thought that came last, that made her heart plummet to the ground: _what if Itachi decided to call off the–_

A warm tanned hand engulfed hers, and Sakura saw the thin silver ring sitting snugly on her finger.

"Relax, Sakura."

She shook her head once to clear away the disruptive thoughts and forced herself to breathe. _In and out, in and out._ There was no use in worrying about all those things. Sakura had done her best, with the wedding preparations and in convincing the Uchiha elders that she was an acceptable bride for their heir. Mikoto had been more than happy to help with both those tasks, and the radiant smile that had adorned the matriarch's ecstatic face was more than enough to assure Sakura that she had made the right choice.

Breaking the news to her teammates had been… interesting, to say the least.

Naruto's horror-stricken face was nauseous with disbelief as he sputtered indignantly, "b-but S-Sakura-chan! Why teme's brother?"

Naruto had struggled to change her mind, not that he even had a small chance of succeeding in the first place. Couldn't she see where he was coming from? This was Uchiha Itachi they were talking about, damnit! He wasn't going to back down and hand her over cordially on a nicely decorated platter, not without a fight–

–which would probably end up with Naruto face down in a pile of mud and Itachi staring down at him, amused. _The bastard._

She could have at least chosen someone who was less capable, someone Naruto would have no trouble handing his ass back to them. But no, his Sakura-chan just _had_ to choose the most sought out bachelor in the whole of Konoha, who, coincidentally was ranked _way _higher than him to boot.

Naruto grunted–_Sasuke-teme, say something!–_and was quickly subdued by wide-eyed alarm, probably with the realization that Sakura, his beloved–_please stay a virgin until you're old and frail!–_teammate was really going to marry into the Uchiha clan.

He lifted a finger and it was a comical sight to behold as Naruto pinned the blame onto their remaining teammate, who merely arched a brow in response. "_Itachi! The ice cube!_" It was as if Naruto expected his teammate to make sense of his incoherent, and seemingly erratic words. "Sakura-chan, you cannot marry into his clan and to an ice cube like teme's brother!"

That had earned him a resounding whack on the head, and Sasuke's irritated voice lacing with aggravation. "Don't insult my brother." And when Naruto opened his mouth again to retort, the raven-head cut in, "don't insult my clan either." His mouth had snapped shut at once, temporarily defeated.

Sasuke had taken it better than she had thought. Her stoic teammate had simply shrugged, smacked the dobe over the head and dragged the latter away, who was still grumbling about 'my sweet, sweet Sakura-chan, don't do it!'

Before they left though, Sasuke had angled his head to fix her with a flat stare. Sakura refused to admit that his warning had sent a chill down her spine. "_If you break nii-san's heart…_" He let the threat hang, and Sakura gulped when a demonic smirk made its way onto his face. "Let's just say that I've been working on my katon, and I know where you keep your medical scrolls."

To say that Sakura had panicked would be a severe understatement.

…

The mischievous glint in Hana's eyes made Sakura squirm apprehensively. It could only mean that the older kunoichi was up to no good.

"So…" Her sly smirk showed the gleam of her twin fangs. _"Ready to do it tonight?"_

"Hana!" Heat warmed her cheeks, trailing to the roots of her hair and Sakura flushed pink with embarrassment. She would never get used to the other's forthright attitude.

There was a knock and Sakura expelled a breath. Never had she been so thankful for an interruption.

"Hey Forehead! You ready yet?"

Sakura tried to smile reassuringly into the mirror, but she was unsurprised to see only a twitch in those crimson lips.

"Almost done!" Hana replied when the words wouldn't leave her mouth.

Rising from her cushioned seat, the rosette was heedful not to wrinkle her lavish attire. Hana placed a hand on the crook of her elbow and gently steered her to the other corner of the room, where a full-length mirror with a thick frame stood. Treading carefully in her tabi socks and wooden zori, Sakura approached her reflection.

Hana had done wonders with the makeup. The bags under her eyes, results from her lack of sleep were no longer visible and _her skin glowed_. The white uchikake was a rich artwork, intricately lined with silken gold with lotus blossoms trailing down the hemline. It folded elegantly over the simple undergarments she wore underneath, and gathered at her feet. Her petite hands were clasped in front of her, the heavily embroidered butterfly sleeves falling to her slender wrists.

When the wedding hood was placed over her pink tresses, Sakura let her eyes slip shut and a tentative smile stretch across her face.

The many layers of garbs weighed down on her as she stepped away from her reflection and towards the door. It felt very different to the light shinobi vests and pants she was accustomed to wearing on a daily basis, but the weight was not exactly unwelcomed. It left her two feet flat on the ground, reminding her of the future awaiting her and tying her to the one she had chosen to share it with.

Straightening her spine, Sakura took a breath. Placing a hand on the shoji screen, and with her heartbeat humming thunderously in her ears, she slid it open.

From now on, it was their future.

* * *

When his little brother approached him on the training grounds the evening before Team 7 was to leave for a mission and hinted subtly that Itachi keep an eye on their sole female teammate, who would not be going, the raven-haired ANBU captain had been more or less puzzled.

From what he had witnessed over the years, the kunoichi was perfectly capable of defending herself from enemy-nin. With the subsequent defeat of Sasori, a S-class missing-nin who specialized in poisons at the hands of the fifteen year old, there left no doubt in his mind of her abilities. She was an accomplished jounin, and he was quite certain that she would not come to much trouble in her team's absence. After all, it was a well-known fact that Haruno Sakura was one of the top medic-nins in Konoha, second only to her teacher, the Godaime Hokage. But it was merely because of her lack of experience that that was so.

On top of her formidable skills in the art of healing, the pink-haired kunoichi had inherited her shishou's incredible strength. Just one decent chakra-enhanced punch was required to land both her teammates: the legacy of Yondaime Hokage and an Uchiha who possessed one of the most sought for blood-limits in the entire shinobi world, in hospital for a few days.

As the apprentice of the current Hokage, who was a drinker _and _a slacker, she was also very knowledgeable about the occurrences in the various shinobi villages. Her teacher had wasted no time in dumping all her paperwork, including some classified documents on a startled Sakura when the former had first discovered her disciple's quick thinking and capable hands. Surely now Shizune had no problems letting her drink in the morning.

Her intellect not only resided in the academic fields, but also extended to missions and battles. Itachi had seen first hand how cunning and creative she could be in a fight, having observed multiple training sessions where she was present. He distinctively recalled the shock his little brother had experienced when the furious kunoichi with her pink hair billowing behind her pulled back a fist and planted a well-aimed punch into his gut. Even Sasuke's sharingan had not seen that coming.

When light, amused chuckles broke the silence, Sakura had swung her head around at the sound. She had flushed lightly then, staring at her feet stubbornly as Itachi looked on. That was the day he first recognized her strength, and her abilities as a kunoichi, which now brought him the predicament standing before him.

Sasuke's seemingly aloof stance and the silence that stretched on suggested his reluctance in justifying the reason behind this particular request. It was apparent to Itachi that simply voicing his request, to his older brother of all people, someone who he admired and endeavored to please, was already too much. Not only was it the sort of compassion that he, a typical Uchiha normally refrained from displaying, but it felt strange for Sasuke to show this side of him to his somewhat emotionally impeded sibling.

This unfamiliar side to Sasuke did not, however inconvenience Itachi, as he has often seen and heard of his brother looking out for his teammates on more occasions than one.

* * *

When he had first been assigned to his team, whose mere names the clansmen frowned upon, Sasuke had eagerly rushed home to tell Itachi. It had been a day in between missions for the ANBU operative. He had been reading quietly in his room, with only the periodic sound of pages turning disrupting the silence, when light swift footsteps neared. His brother slid open his door, looking slightly abashed when he realized Itachi had been otherwise preoccupied.

With a leg propped up and his back against a wall, Itachi looked at peace as he became absorbed into his novel. When Sasuke came in, he let out a small smile at the other's discomfort.

"What is it, Sasuke?"

His otouto had taken that initiative immediately and proceeded to fill him in with all the details about the day. Like any other child, Sasuke had jumped from one thing to another, and without a regular pattern Itachi could employ to predict what would come next, he had let himself be subjected to a rare occasion of sporadic change in subject.

He talked about their sensei, Hatake Kakashi and his brother made his displeasure of the man explicit with the deep scowl on his face. Itachi understood his objection; he has heard of the copy-nin's infamous tardiness and indulgence in indecent reading material. His frown expressed his own disapproval but after a moment, he schooled his features.

It would not do well for Sasuke to be readily influenced by opinions other than his own. Itachi was aware of the influence he had over his brother's decisions. It was not as though he would exploit this, but it was time for Sasuke to be more independent or their clan would easily take advantage of this.

Hatake Kakashi was one of the best jounins in the village, the only non-Uchiha to have wielded their clan's sharingan at such a high level. His little brother would learn a great deal from the man, despite his shortcomings. So for now, Itachi would keep watch, a hidden force that would come forth at a moment's notice.

He watched as Sasuke's unworldly eyes lit up as he mentioned a picnic his team suggested, but dimmed faintly at the mention of the clan. Itachi could see the happiness the younger boy radiated, a glowing and ever growing conviction.

The only thing that held him back was his own family. Sasuke's growth as a ninja would be strongly influenced by the clan, and the elders would do their best in manipulating the team he would work with.

The councilmen would not approve of Sasuke's team, Itachi was sure of it. The nine-tail's vessel was regarded as an abomination, a disease to be isolated and controlled. Itachi has observed the cheerful blond being harassed and bullied by the village children, and not one came to his defense. The Uchiha heir soon realized that both his two friends were unaware of this ongoing aversion, but as time went on and Naruto's spirited nature became more superficial, it did not take a genius to know that something was amiss.

Even with Sasuke and Sakura with Naruto, the latter walking in between the two protective presences, it was to no avail. The disgusted looks continued, and the cursing did not diminish. Itachi would not normally intervene, but the village's ill treatment of the child, who having done nothing wrong has been warranted with such intolerable conduct his whole life, was growing more vicious.

Itachi had been on his way to the Hokage tower for a mission brief, leaping gracefully up on the roofs when a loud cry drew his attention to the street below. A flash of golden confirmed his thoughts. The familiar cry belonged to his brother's friend, who was now on the ground, paling as a gruff man advanced on him with a knife in hand. The butcher waved his weapon around, the sharp end pointing to the retreating blond as the child scrambled backward helplessly. The Sandaime would be most displeased to hear that a butcher was intentionally threatening a child's life with a knife.

But as far as he knew, Itachi was quite certain that the village's treatment of the child never went beyond the frequent cussing and the empty threats. It seemed as though it has gone beyond that now, judging by the killing intent the man exuded with every step.

Itachi did not hesitate to change his course, and he leapt away from the rooftops, landing soundlessly on the ground with his back to the blond. The butcher halted his advance, having recognized the teen before him. Dark hair, dark eyes and dark clothes: they were those of a typical Uchiha. He gulped, not knowing what to say in defense. He has been caught red-handed, and if the ninja chose to report this to the Hokage, he would be screwed. Fortunately for him, this Uchiha was not going to trouble the village leader with matters he could take care of himself.

"Do not threaten this boy again, do you understand?"

Itachi spoke softly, but even without announcing his words loudly, his message was clear enough. The threat underlying his stern tone was adequate in detaining the people's drastic actions.

Itachi did not activate his sharingan, but the anger reflected in his onyx orbs added to his threat as his eyes swept across the crowd that had gathered.

He took their silence as their answer, and Itachi turned away from their staring eyes. Naruto was looking at him with such awe that he hid a wince. He had not known that the boy was being treated this poorly, or else he would have done something by now. But alas, it was now obvious to him that their hostility ran deep in their blood. He would take care in not making the same mistake again.

Itachi held out his hand. "Can you stand?"

Naruto grasped his, smaller yet just as scarred. Itachi felt the callous of Naruto's shorter fingers as he pulled the other up. The child grinned, seemingly undaunted by how the people had just treated him. "Thanks, Itachi-nii!"

…

His clan did not understand; they did not see the value of faith and hope. They were blinded by promises of power and eternal affluence. That was why Itachi was sure they would not approve of Sasuke's team. Sasuke's tender friendship with Naruto and Sakura had blossomed into something unbreakable. And it was a thorn to the councilmen. An Uchiha must be independent of everyone else; rely only on their own power and abilities. To do otherwise was perceived as a fatal weakness. It seemed ironic that it was only in this belief that the Uchiha clan was united.

Itachi was the perfect embodiment of an Uchiha, or so it appeared. He was calm and composed, intelligent and cunning. A prodigy who has risen above all, Itachi was their gem, their perfect heir. Sasuke must be the same, he must follow his brother's footsteps. That was what the clan believed, and in bonding with what they saw as disgraces to the Uchiha name, Sasuke was straying away from what the Uchiha held in high regard.

But little did they know that Itachi was not at all what they perceived as the perfect heir. They remain blissfully oblivious to how close the clan had come to be massacred all those years ago.

Itachi would not have hesitated to eliminate the entire Uchiha clan, should he be instructed to. He would not have pressed for a more peaceful solution, for an alternative if he had not opened his heart to his own brother. Everything was for Sasuke, and his happiness.

He had been willing to throw away everything: his family, his kin to ensure the safety of his village. But not Sasuke, not his brother.

And so he had pleaded to the Hokage, his head hung in shame for what his very own clan had been scheming to do. The village elders were more than happy to be rid of the Uchihas, but the Sandaime has always been a sympathetic and charitable leader. Not every Uchiha had been involved in planning the coup; there were innocents, children and mothers who have been unwillingly tied in. It would not be fair to them, to sentence every last Uchiha to death.

It was Fugaku who came up with the solution, and his mother had stood confidently by his side as her husband negotiated with the village leader. Both Konoha and the Uchiha must embrace one another and work in unison for the village to establish peace. The Uchiha were given more power in the running of the village, and they became responsible for the Konoha Police force once again. Shinobi from all over the village joined the police, and together with the Uchiha, they worked to patrol the village borders and guard the gates.

Though the danger of a rebellion was over, the greed in the Uchiha clan did not subside. It was contained, but not completely gone. Most of the Uchiha were drifting away from the interests of the clan, and pledging their loyalty to the village but the councilmen were stubborn. They held onto the traditional beliefs, refusing to accept their village's patronage.

Itachi did not try to convince them otherwise. It would simply be a waste of time and effort to do so, for he was adamantly sure that it would be a futile venture. Perhaps time would diffuse their strong feelings, but perhaps it won't. The village was safe, and that was all that mattered.

But he was pleased to glimpse his kin outside the compound and within the heart of the village. On his way to the dango shop, Itachi would see some of his younger cousins by the playground, hanging by the edge until some daring civilian children invited them to play. His mother could be found every morning at the markets, pondering on which fish to purchase or which dish to make.

His older cousin, Shisui was often seen at the hospital despite not being at all injured, flirting incessantly with the nurse on duty. Then he would notice a flash of pink before the pink-haired medic-nin flung his cousin out of the clinic.

Itachi was glad Team 7 was still as close as ever. The team, including their two teachers and additional ex-root teammate was inseparable. Itachi has lost count of how many times he has seen the group at Ichiraku slurping on some ramen. Naruto and Sakura especially, have been Sasuke's emotional support and have been for so long that it would be strange to see any of them without the other two.

Team 7 has stuck together, through missions and through clan affairs. Itachi alone could not have deterred the clan elders without resorting to some well-placed threats, and it was only because of the rest of Team 7 that he had not needed to.

The first time the door to the meeting quarters was kicked open and both Sakura and Naruto stroded in, as if they were accustomed to crashing parties, Itachi had been surprised, by their determination and their boldness.

His mother had wheeled him in to attending that week's meeting, and the dull droning of the clansmen did nothing to pique his interest, even for a short moment. He had welcomed the intrusion, but was startled to see his brother's teammates standing by the doorway. Upon their arrival, the elder who had been speaking went red with barely held back anger and Itachi felt his lips tug upward. _What interesting teammates you have, otouto._

Only he and his father were amused by this development, the latter chuckling quietly from where he sat in the centre of the room.

It was that day that Itachi learned that where Team 7 went, chaos and amusement for him followed closely behind.

* * *

"Sakura is… hopeless with men."

Itachi blinked. He ignored his brother shifting restlessly as Itachi played the words in his mind. Sakura was hopeless with men? He did not understand how that had to do with Sasuke asking Itachi to keep an eye out for the kunoichi during his absence. There was clearly more to it, as Sakura was anything but hopeless with the various men in her life. She could easily subdue any of them with her astounding temper and inhuman strength.

"Explain, little brother."

Sasuke breathed heavily, glancing away from the other's piercing gaze. Explaining things has never been his forte. He has managed so far to convey his wants and needs with a few grunts and 'hns.' And whenever he did not want to explain something, he usually left it to Sakura or even the dobe to take care of it.

_Damnit Sakura, this is all your fault!_

Sasuke wished he were anywhere but here. Even ramen with the orange jumpsuit was sounding more and more appealing by the moment.

Itachi lifted a brow, showing his impatience as he retrieved a kunai from his pouch and turned it over with his fingers. Sasuke sighed, either way he was signing a death warrant. He was either going to die from his female teammate's wrath, or from humiliation. His brother had been the very last option, but they had no choice. It was either him or Genma, and so Itachi it was. And since Itachi was Sasuke's brother, it automatically fell upon his shoulders to approach the ANBU.

_Damn Naruto. Damn Sakura. Damn Naruto. Damn Saku–_

"Sasuke."

His head snapped up, and Sasuke swallowed quickly. If he didn't know better, Sasuke would have thought that his brother looked slightly… amused?

"You know Sakura, right? She…"

Itachi fought the urge to sigh. It would seem that his little brother was incapable of providing a simple clarification of what he meant. By the other's constant averting eyes and creasing brows, this was going to take all night. Perhaps he shouldn't have left his novel in his room.

Itachi finally had enough when he caught the words 'many men,' 'in danger' and 'can't be there to help all the time' being spoken at an abnormally fast pace and held up a hand. Sasuke broke off instantly and straightened. The pink that lightly tinted his cheeks was the only indication of his chagrin at his rambling.

"So you wish me to guard Sakura in your absence," Itachi stated, his voice flat and slightly disbelieving. He paused, his tone amused and a single brow arched with a token of incredulity. "…Because she is unaware of the number of men attracted to her?"

Sasuke sighed, resigned. "Yes, I would appreciate that nii-san." That was his best shot. Now don't let anyone ever say that Uchiha Sasuke didn't try to explain his dilemma. "And don't let Sakura know," he quickly tacked on.

"And why would I do that, little brother?"

Sasuke halted his retreat at his brother's remark. This was when he was supposed to be going on his merry way, his problems all solved. But he had not considered Itachi's obstinacy, only Sakura's wrath when, no_ if_, Sasuke insisted, she found out.

The sky had darkened to silver-grey when Sasuke's silhouette faded into the distance. Itachi angled the kunai in his hands so that his dark eyes were reflected on the surface. He ran a finger down its dull edge, and without looking up, flicked the weapon away. A soft thud confirmed that the kunai had found its mark on the scoring target.

"_Because you care about her as much as I do,"_ his brother had said. The corners of Itachi's lips curled. _Do I?_

* * *

Sasuke had left for his mission almost an hour ago, when the sun had yet to mount the cloudless sky. Itachi slipped out of his futon, his long locks thrown precariously over his back. Last night's conversation was still fresh in his mind.

It was true that the kunoichi had attracted a long line of admirers over the years. Her sweet and kind demeanor as a medic-nin has not only succeeded in coaxing reluctant patients into taking injections, but has also earned her many fans, especially of the male gender. As a kunoichi, her skills on the battlefield have garnered the attention of many shinobi. Gai's disciple, Lee was a prime example that came to his mind.

His youthful confessions to the pinkette were not a rare occurrence. Itachi has grown used to the taijutsu master's frequent appearance when he was with Team 7, and courtesy to Sasuke's death glares, Itachi was made aware of his brother's irritation of the other's antics.

There were countless others of course, but his own teammates, Genma and Shisui have regarded themselves as 'enthusiasts for Sakura-chan's love.' During missions, they would fight over the kunoichi's affections despite the latter not being present. Itachi was sure that had she been, she would have punted the two.

However, Itachi was not concerned. He knew that their 'fights' were merely harmless fun, just to pass the time. If they did not attempt to coerce him into joining in the future, then he would let them continue their frolicking.

He has observed the pink-haired kunoichi being nothing but pleasant with several of her admirers. He did not comprehend what Sasuke meant by 'hopeless with men.' From what he has seen, she handled them quite well, and much better than Sasuke with his fangirls.

It would not be a nuisance to pay his brother's teammate a visit, seeing he had nothing planned for the day. Perhaps a shogi game at the Nara compound, followed by a serene stroll around the neighbourhood. He would visit the ANBU headquarters for a mission scroll before returning home. The next clan meeting was in a week's time and if Itachi was fortunate, there would a mission available to ensure his nonattendance at the village for the next month and a half so that he could miss two of the monthly meetings.

Thus, the cycle continued. He would sign up for missions to avoid attending the meetings, and his father would be displeased, having to be the one to inform the elders of his firstborn's _untimely _absence.

But for now, he did not need to worry about the clan and his duty. Making his way downstairs and to the kitchen, he quickly prepared himself some food. In less than fifteen minutes, the ANBU captain was on the rooftops, streaking through the village towards the civilian district.

Should anyone ask why the Uchiha heir was heading towards the apartment belonging to a pink-haired jounin, it was solely because of his brother's request.

His curiosity towards the kunoichi had _nothing_ to do with it, nothing at all.

…

Itachi was perched behind the roof a few houses away from where he could see the rosette in her kitchen. It would seem as though the female had an affinity for a substantial dose of caffeine in the morning. Sakura had headed straight for her coffee maker once she had hopped out of bed.

He had arrived just in time for her to wake. He had imagined her waking earlier, but perhaps it was due to today being her day off that she had slept in a little longer.

It was when the kunoichi started, pushing away her covers when Itachi realized something and froze. He has heard of the few times when an unfortunate messenger for the Hokage arrived at the kunoichi's windowsill and was clobbered for getting an eyeful of the sleep-deprived female. His plight was soon revealed to be unnecessary, for Sakura was fully dressed when she clambered out of bed gracelessly.

The menial tasks the female proceeded to complete: brushing her teeth, having a small breakfast and quick cleaning gave Itachi an insight to Sakura's mission-free and hospital-free days. He had once heard her say that these tasks represented a routine; a break from the erratic life a ninja was prone to having.

Itachi did not disagree. Routine and repetition brought simplicity and tranquility to life, despite the monotony it may induce. He himself liked to accompany his mother on her visits to the markets should the occasion arise and he was unengaged. It was pleasant, knowing what would happen next and having to not worry about being confronted with multiple surprises, which were common during missions.

Reading was also something he had become deeply immersed in. It offered him a world unlike his own, and it gave him a temporary outlet in life. In a way, it served the same purpose as sparring. The stress accumulated with the previous missions or clan affairs would be cleansed and expelled with reading in the quiet confines of his room, or with an all-out spar with a good opponent.

Despite what it appeared, with Itachi taking multiple missions at once, he appreciated a day off from time to time.

It was almost noon when the kunoichi locked the door to her apartment, and made her way down the street with her wallet in hand. Itachi kept his distance, his chakra concealed completely before he followed.

He watched as she entered the marketplace, swarmed with civilians purchasing groceries and discussing the freshness of various vegetables. A festive air was settling upon the market as unlit crimson lanterns were hung around the bustling area.

From the shadows, he watched while the rosette stopped at a corner stall, where an old lady was selling a wide range of fruits. Sakura gestured to several fruits, asking questions as the old lady smiled and answered them.

Sakura nodded as the lady spoke, absorbing everything before the seller handed her a bag. Itachi was contemplating on what fruits she was going to purchase when she picked out a few tomatoes.

_Ah. Sasuke._

He assumed she would be cooking for five or six people, judging by the number of tomatoes she placed in the bag. When she was done, the kunoichi handed her money to the old lady and when she was given change, shook her head. Pushing the old woman to accept this generous tip, Sakura smiled when the other gave in.

Itachi moved closer, curious as to what would happen next.

"…–re too kind. Thank you, dear."

Sakura smiled brightly at the old woman, lingering to chat for a moment longer.

When the kunoichi left and headed down the street, Itachi moved towards the stall. The old lady smiled at him, and he dipped his head politely in greeting. He reached for a tomato, and picked it up deft fingers.

Rubbing his thumb along the smooth skin absentmindedly, Itachi felt the old woman's curious gaze on him.

He looked up, "the lady… who just bought these toma–"

"Oh! You mean Sakura-san?" The seller interjected eagerly, as her features lit up at the mention of the kunoichi.

"Isn't she a sweet girl? Every time she comes by, she never leaves without a bag of fruits and refuses to take her change!" Her clear blue eyes softened and she grew quiet, "she is too kind. There aren't many young ones like that anymore."

…

Itachi's intrigue for the pinkette was not satiated by the end of the morning. If anything, it only grew.

He would not presume to know her well; he only knew her as his brother's teammate and the child who had stumbled across his training grounds all those years ago, chasing a bunny. He did not interact with the kunoichi on a regular basis, only acknowledging her with a nod should he come across her, either when she came to visit Sasuke, or when he arrived at the Hokage's office to see her hunched over a medical scroll.

He preferred to observe her interactions with others. He has concluded that she was a social butterfly. She knew all kinds of people, and she was not shy to express her true feelings even to someone she barely knew. From the timid heiress of the Hyuuga clan to the lively members of the Inuzuka clan, the pinkette conversed easily with anyone. It would seem that it was the same in the marketplace.

She was well acquainted with both the storekeepers and her fellow shoppers. She spoke with a friendly smile, and moved her hands frequently to express what she meant. She did not appear to be annoyed when prices were not to her liking, as she lowered them easily with a quick smile and a promise of a session of healing without payment.

Her outgoing and caring nature contrasted greatly with his personality. He preferred to spend his time staying at home, or perched on a shady tree where no one could find him unless he desired. He was not one for parties, and his mother has long learned not to surprise him with a party after a long mission. He conversed in few words, with only those he chose to. He never actively initiated a conversation and sustained it, keeping mostly to himself.

It was not as though he detested socializing with people. He had no problem communicating his intentions, and he would not be abhorred to the idea of spending an hour or so at a party. He merely chose not to.

Another reason for his aversion to large crowds of people was the possibility of being clustered with persistent females. They always seem capable of finding him, despite his excellent sense of concealing himself and follow him wherever he went.

Disappearing for a few days was an alternative to his problem, but the cycle would simply be never-ending once they caught sight of him again.

The kunoichi was almost finished with her shopping, having reached the last few stalls in sight. She stopped at a store when something caught her eye. From where he hid behind a roof, Itachi saw a glimmer in the light–jewellery.

Sakura surveyed the necklace with a keen eye, admiring the token. The seller was a young man in his mid-twenties. His blond hair fell to his eyes and when he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"You have a good eye. Just for you, half price only."

Sakura looked up briefly, before her eyes flickered back to the accessory with uncertainty. She had spent most of her money on groceries, and her wallet was almost empty. Inner Sakura drooled over the necklace. Well, Sakura bit her lower lip. It wasn't like she owned any necklaces, and she rarely spoiled herself. Ino would argue that her definition of spoiling herself was an extra serving of tempura or a batch of brownies.

Being a kunoichi meant sacrificing beauty for practicality. But she deserved a simple necklace, right?

She kept her eyes on the necklace as she slipped a hand in her wallet discretely. After a moment, she sighed dejectedly and straightened, shooting the young man an apologetic look. Buying that necklace meant compromising her grocery for next month and she wouldn't be receiving her next paycheck until her next mission, and who knew when that would be? The few coins in her wallet jingled as she walked away.

During her moment of inattention, she had not seen the interested look the young man had bestowed upon her. And when she smiled at him as she left, Itachi understood his brother's concern. It was a sweet smile, her emerald eyes softening slightly as she gave him a regretful look. It was anything but deterring, and the young man knew it too.

"How about a quarter?" Sakura turned around, surprised. The young man lifted the necklace and murmured in a low voice, "a pretty necklace for a beautiful lady, and perfect for a wonderful night out." Itachi frowned. It was clear what his intentions towards the rosette were.

She flushed pink, and Itachi found himself drawn to the way her cheeks dusted in the sunlight. The shade was like that of a frosted tulip, shy and startling.

"Toshio!" The voice came from the back of the store.

The young man apologized, and with a twinkle of promise in his eyes, turned away, disappearing into the back, "Yes, otou-san?"

Sakura seemed to realise what had just happened, and her emerald eyes widened with shock. She shook her head from side to side in denial. She did not wait for the young man's return, for she turned and hurried away.

Itachi leapt from the roof, landing soundlessly in front of the recently deserted stall. Dark eyes drifted to where the pinkette had gone before they averted away and found a necklace with a silver butterfly adorning its lustrous chain. There was a waft of peaches when the wind blew and slender fingers carefully lifted the accessory from where it sat. A smile ghosted his lips as he slipped the necklace into his pouch. Leaving a few coins behind, Konoha's top ANBU captain disappeared with a flurry of crows.


	3. forever in my thoughts

**A/N. Ah, New Year's Eve. This year has flown by so quickly that just last month I found myself dating my work as 2012. Oh goodness, how I wish time travel was not just a child's fantasy!**

**Anyway, I've gone back to edit the previous two chapters and it was horrible seeing so many spelling mistakes! How you managed to read through all that is a wonder indeed! This chapter, which is also my longest chapter as of yet (yes new record!) focuses mainly on Sakura, but not to worry, our lovely Itachi is most definitely not neglected :)**

**I am anticipating one last part before BAO is completed. Originally, I was planning on only three chapters but I decided to add in some extra things.**

**Before you go on, a word of warning - I suck at angst and romance, both of which are in this chapter. Any comments or criticism is welcomed!**

**And once again, thank you all for the support!**

* * *

Sakura was beyond weary. The exhaustion was bone deep, even as the twenty-year-old kunoichi continued her late shift at the hospital. Five days of barely six hours of sleep a night, added on to her increasing workload since her promotion to head medic (courtesy of her lax shishou), coupled with late night shifts that almost always ended at the crack of dawn, Sakura was literally dead on her feet.

She barely noted that her chakra reserve was close to a dangerously low level every time she ran her glowing hands down a patient's arm, leg, or back. The effects weren't going to be pleasant. Chakra depletion was utterly troublesome, as a certain lazy ninja would interject to say. The symptoms included dry mouth, dehydration, soreness in the limbs, sleepiness and a mother of all headaches. It was truly unappealing, and after experiencing the repercussions once, Sakura was ready to stay on top of her game just to never come near that state of health again for the remaining of her medical career.

Luckily she hasn't had any major surgery or healing since this morning, only minor cuts and wounds to deal with. She had spent most of her afternoon cooped up in her tiny office, occupied with the endless amounts of paperwork until her hand and fingers ached.

Sipping her fifth cup of coffee, Sakura sighed tiredly. She couldn't wait to go home and curl up in her comfortable bed. Maybe a long relaxing soak in her bathtub, followed by a quick snack before she hit the sack. No doubt she would fall asleep even before her head hit the pillow, but thank god for that. Late night shift and then a fitful night? No way would she _not_ be punching her way to the hospital the next morning.

The rhythmic scratching of her pen against paper was interrupted by a quick knock on her door. Sakura looked up, her hand poised just above the document she was signing and frowned slightly. This couldn't be good.

"Come in!"

She was already reaching for her coffee when the nurse on duty, Hitomi-san opened the door. She shuffled uncertainly, rubbing her hands together nervously which immediately drew her thoughts away to a certain timid Hyuuga friend.

"A-An ANBU team just arrived. They aren't in the best condition."

Sakura was up, putting on her coat as the nurse filled her in quickly.

"… broken ribs, internal bleeding, some superficial wounds an–"

"What about Tsunade-sama and Shizune-nee?" Sakura strode briskly down the empty hallway with Hitomi struggling to keep up by her side.

"Hokage-sama is in an important meeting right now and Shizune-san has already been informed of the situation. She should be at the surgery room now."

The pink-haired medic nodded absentmindedly as she shoved her hand into her glove. When they arrived, Sakura left the nurse in favour of pushing open the door.

Shizune was already healing an unconscious ANBU as Sakura made her way to her patient, quickening her pace when she caught a glimpse of the shinobi's injuries.

Her patient was lying on the surgery table, clad in standard black ANBU attire, which made it more difficult to discern the state of his injuries. All his weapons came off his person and the silvery grey vest has been removed, leaving him in a simple black shirt. No one had bothered to remove his mask, but Sakura didn't need to see his face to know who it was.

The long raven locks, tied at the nape and the waning complexion of his bare hands was enough to cause her heart to flutter with slight apprehension. Sasuke was going kill her if she let anything happen to his precious nii-san on her watch. With that cursory thought, the rosette took a deep breath. Around her, the nurse awaited her instructions dutifully as Sakura slipped into her medic mode.

"Aki-san, I need you to…"

…

Sakura was making her rounds when her senses suddenly pricked. The coffee sloshed over the brim of the cup in her hands when the pinkette began to exude menacing killing intent, warding away anyone in a five feet radius.

_Those two idiots! _She muttered under her breath, clearly irked by the appearance of her teammates.

She was not in the mood to put up with their antics right now! After the surgery ended in the wee hours this morning, she had only gotten four hours of sleep before her next shift began. Her back ached from sleeping in her office chair in an uncomfortable position.

Sakura rounded the corner, her features murderous as she prepared to yell at both her teammates. She didn't care why they were here, whether it was to bother her or if they were up to any mischief. They better not be because she has explicitly told them not to bother her during her shifts at the hospital unless it was an emergency. She was tired, sleep-deprived and her chakra completely depleted. They better have a good damn reason for coming here.

"Sasuke, Naruto. What are you both doing here?" She started with a sickening sweet voice, as she cracked her knuckles, "_should I remind you that visiting hours are already over?_"

The blond and raven raised their hands quickly in surrender as they gulped in trepidation, imagining the colourful tales the village would tell after their demise at the hands of the pink-haired demon.

"H-Hey S-Sakura-chan!" Naruto laughed nervously. "We're h-here to visit I-Itachi?"

"Visiting hours are over!" The tempest retorted obstinately.

"B-but Sakura-cha–"

"NO! Get out, both of you!" Sakura swung her fists in warning, "I'm too tired to deal with the two of you now!"

When Naruto looked ready to counter, which was not a good idea, Sasuke wisely slapped a hand over the blond's mouth.

"S-mfph! Tem-psklgj!" Naruto waved his hands around, almost whacking an irritated Sasuke in the face.

"Then we'll leave now," the stoic genius nodded calmly at their fuming friend. There was no use in arguing with an irrational and rest-impoverished Sakura. "We'll see you later, Sakura."

They left soon after, with Sasuke dragging a struggling Naruto down the hallway.

Sakura stomped to her next patient's room, her features contorted angrily. She could not believe them! They knew that visiting hours were over, yet they decided to sneak into the hospital.

Stopping in front of the patient's room, the rosette breathed deeply. She mustn't let her patients see her as such. She would be an irresponsible medic if she didn't treat her patients with respect, and Tsunade would have her head if she let her anger get the best of her.

Her hand hovered over the handle when two familiar voices drifted from the within the room.

"Sakura-chan's gonna beat us up when she finds out!"

"Shut up dobe…"

The door was kicked open, and the horrified expressions on their two faces would have been hilarious if Sakura hadn't been so furious. Those idiotic jerky asses!

"Uzumaki Naruto! Uchiha Sasuke! The nerve of you two!" Her seething hiss resembled the latter's snake summonings as she stalked towards her two brothers. She was going to wring their necks!

Sasuke and Naruto blanched, and before Sakura could pounce on them and land a chakra-enhanced hit that would not have missed, made the necessary hand signs for a teleportation jutsu to get them out of danger quickly.

The pink haired jounin was fuming, and she didn't acknowledge the patient present in the room as she cursed under her breath.

_Damn Sasuke. Damn Naruto. Once I get my hands on you two, I'm going to–_

"I apologise for the trouble, Sakura-san."

His low tone was enough to snap her out of her musings. His determination to protect her two teammates did not go unnoticed by the emerald-eyed kunoichi. Sakura felt her wrath slip away as easily as it came. Her eyes softened imperceptibly as she regarded the ANBU captain.

It was common knowledge that Uchiha Itachi had a club full of fangirls dedicated to him, and it came as no surprise, considering the man's polite civility and handsome features. Not only that, the Uchiha heir was an extremely competent shinobi on missions, with Team One's success rate being almost a hundred percent. As captain, he led his team with charismatic efficiency and his dedication to the village was unparalleled.

Sasuke has informed her of how close Itachi had come to eliminating the entire clan, under the orders of the village elders, but had requested for an alternative from the Sandaime. At the mere age of thirteen, the teen had almost been forced to turn his back on his clan and slay everyone last one of them.

Her teammates' respect for the detached and level-headed shinobi had only grown with that development, and it was no wonder that she has come to admire the raven-haired man herself, for the things he had gone through and for his readiness to sacrifice everything for the welfare of his village. She did not know how he would have felt, being cornered and forced to do such a dreadful thing. So ever since then, Sakura has begun to pay more attention to the mystifying man.

It wasn't much, but she wanted to know the man whose dedication to her village surpassed all she knew. Her intrigue for this individual, so fond of his otouto and so composed when every other was agitated, grew slowly in time.

Sakura started by making a conscious effort to converse with the elder Uchiha whenever she was over at the Uchiha compound.

"How have you been, Itachi-san?" "I have been well, thank you, Sakura-san. And you?" "I'm fine too." She had bit her lip nervously, and she had been convinced that the awkwardness she had been feeling with the prolonged silence put only her at ill-ease. Her hushed companion seemed unaffected, sipping at his tea with a grace that resembled a nobleman as he stared straight ahead.

"Itachi-san?" Sakura had started, and she became unsure of what to say when his dark eyes, flecked with deep grey turned to regard her silently.

"I…" She cleared her throat and smiled softly, "if you need any medical assistance, please do not hesitate to approach me."

When she compelled her chin not to fall at his lack of response, Sakura finally saw the hint of surprise in his eyes before he dipped his head in gratitude. The trace of a smile playing at his thin lips did not escape her attention, and Sakura was anything but disheartened at the sight.

He was always so… well-mannered that she wondered why her teammate hadn't turned out that way as well. Sasuke was brooding most of the time, with his hands in his pockets whenever they walked to the training grounds. Sometimes, when he really wanted to, her teammate could be courteous. He would pass the salt or pepper when she asked, or hand her a napkin once in a while … but only if he wanted to, which in itself was extremely rare. Otherwise, he would just give her his typical Uchiha stare that roughly meant why-are-you-asking-me-when-you-can-get-it-yourself?

Sakura shook her head mentally in exasperation. The difference was freakishly… well, freaky. She has gotten used to her teammate's moping personality since their genin days, but at times she preferred to be in the company of the other.

"They'll get it tomorrow. It's time they were taught not to bother patients at ungodly hours," the medic replied with resignation as she approached his bed.

Picking up his chart, Sakura flipped through the few pages of the extensive list of injuries the ANBU had sustained. Without looking up, she asked, "how are you feeling, Itachi-san?"

"Hn." Sakura assumed that meant he was fine. It was a good thing she had gotten used to the way Uchihas expressed themselves.

"When am I to be discharged?"

How typical, Sakura bristled. All shinobi had one thing or another against hospitals. They just couldn't stand staying the night in a clean hospital bed with professional medical assistance just within the area without putting up a fight.

"In three days. Your injuries have yet to heal, and we don't know if you will come down with an infection until tomorrow morning," Sakura replied cordially as she lowered the clipboard.

Clearly the Uchiha was displeased with what she said, with his jaw tightening minutely. That was the only indication of his discontent since he spoke with the same civility he bestowed on any other.

"I would like to leave now," Itachi looked away from her and fixed his gaze to whatever was outside the window.

Sakura fumed at his arrogant attitude, at how easily he dismissed her. The condescension in his unyielding tone of voice and his expectance of her to simply abide by his wishes–no demands was clearly pushing it. It lit something within her, infuriating her to no end because she really didn't have to deal with this right now.

All these idiots, thinking they could just leave the day after being admitted into the hospital with serious injuries. After grueling hours dragging their backsides from death's clutches, and without even a polite thank you and a care to their wellbeing, thinking they could just waltz right back into the S-ranked missions and–

She hadn't realized that she had been voicing her thoughts aloud until the stoic shinobi interrupted her midway, "Sakura-san."

Her jaw snapped shut, and Sakura couldn't stop herself from colouring at being caught blathering.

"Your concern is understandable and appreciated," Itachi announced, his dark eyes boldly meeting her steely ones. What he said next made her apprehend just how persistent he could be to have things go his way. "However, I still wish to be discharged."

The urge to throw her hands up in the air and stick her tongue out at the insufferable man was so tempting that Sakura missed the quiet laughter dancing in the other's onyx eyes as she spun on her heels.

"Fine! Do what you want, Uchiha and land your ass right back here for all I care! I'm not healing you again, not even if Sasuke gets on his knees and…"

When her angry footsteps faded down the corridor, Itachi let his lips curve into a faint smirk. He knew the medic did not mean the words she spoke, but it still amused him how easily she was riled up.

What an interesting kunoichi.

* * *

She had been at the training grounds, preparing for the upcoming jounin exams when they told her.

Her brain had gone into shock, and she barely registered what the stuttering chuunin was saying as the kunai she was prepared to hurl at Neji, her current sparring opponent fell from her numbed fingers.

Her mind went blank, refusing to process anything else. She hazily recalled Neji whispering something into her ear while nudging her gently towards the direction of where she was supposed to go.

She didn't know how she got there by herself only that before long, she was standing frozen by the automatic doors of Konoha's General hospital. She pushed through, already opening her mouth and stumbling over her words before she had even reached the counter.

Sakura distractedly dipped her head when the nurse motioned her down a set of familiar corridors. All hospital protocols flew over her head as Sakura took off down the hallway. She ignored the shouts that followed in her wake, her eyes wide as she felt the rush of wind whipping at the sides of her face.

She reached the room–room 136–and Sakura paused. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt the adrenaline slipping away. Fear gripped her, and she was a mess, denying what the chuunin had said.

The door swung open to reveal a simple, clean hospital room, and the smell of anesthetics assaulted her senses. The curtains were drawn back and the sunshine chased away the darkness. On the bedside table, there was a vase of daffodils. Fresh, and untouched.

Sakura did not let her eyes stray to where the bed was situated until last, and when she finally did, her wobbling knees buckled. She fell to the ground gracelessly, and a sob made its way to her throat when she clamped a shaky hand over her mouth. A silent cry in her mind before the air left her lungs.

_No… no… NO!_

The white sheet thrown over the unmistakable profile of a patient needed not to speak words.

…

Sakura has never known her father; only the tales spoken from her mother's lips offered the pinkette an image of the man who had birthed her. She did remember one thing though, and that was his smile. It was crooked and imperfect, but to the pink-haired child, it was warm and fatherly. She remembered his perfect teeth, white and pristine when he smiled and held out his arms for her.

Her mother had raised her all by herself. Sakura's father had made the sacrifice in order to ensure the mission was a success, and that his team made it back safely to the village. And it was for this reason that Haruno Mebuki had always been against her daughter following in her husband's footsteps.

The risks that came with the job, in her opinion, simply outweighed the benefits of an adventurous lifestyle and the generous pay. If her daughter wanted to, she'd happily let her go skydiving instead. But no, Sakura was dead set on becoming a full-fledged kunoichi _and _a field medic. So she gave in begrudgingly, and she let her only daughter join the Academy.

For this, Sakura had been immensely delighted. Meeting Naruto and Sasuke had only fuelled her desire to become a kunoichi, as they both aspired to rise to the top of their respective fields. Her mother had never been eager to push her down this particular road, so Sakura had been surprised when her mother gave her consent one cloudy morning.

Ever since, her mother has always been there for her: the day she was assigned to her genin team, the morning she left for her first mission, the day she became a chuunin and so on. Her mother's presence was like warmth enveloping her, keeping her dry from the rain and safe from danger. Sakura never failed to skip home every sunset and into the other's embrace.

It was a few weeks after the chuunin exams when Sakura noticed something was wrong. Her mother has always been a diligent worker, a trait she herself has inherited, so it had been unusual for Mebuki to take a day off from work. She had come down with a mild cold, but her mother has never once skipped a day at work just because of the flu.

The next morning, Sakura came down to an empty kitchen. Making her way to the room adjacent to hers, she had knocked softly on her mother's door.

"Okaa-san? Are you alright?"

A muffled cough came from the other side. "Y-Yes. Don't worry, just need some rest and I'll be better!"

She hadn't. Her condition worsened, and it wasn't long until Sakura persuaded her to go for a checkup at the local hospital.

The doctor had looked grim when he told them the news. "_… cancer in the blood … incurable … unlucky … one in five are diagnosed …"_

Those mere words were enough to immobilize Sakura in her seat. The feeling that overwhelmed her, it was so intense and for a moment, Sakura felt her heart stop.

Denial came next, rushing into her like a raging storm. No… not cancer…

She was surprised she hadn't bawled her eyes out by then. It was like receiving a death sentence; being told how long you had to live until your body stopped functioning, until your brain shut itself down. Except, this was happening to _her mother_.

She remembered going to a secluded part of the Konoha forest afterwards, her hands fisted by her side. In that one moment of weakness, _of futility_, Sakura had let herself break down out of the sight of everyone else. With her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, she had rocked forward and let herself cry. She told herself that she would let herself surrender to the grief until morning.

When dawn broke, she had marched up the Hokage's office, her emerald eyes ardent with determination.

She would have laughed at the Godaime's loss of words when Sakura asked the other to teach her medical ninjutsu if she hadn't been so anxious to begin with. Under the Hokage's tutelage, Sakura quickly mastered the art of healing. Soon, she would begin her search for the cure.

Sleepless nights spent at the lab provided fruitless results. Weeks into her research and Sakura hadn't even the inkling of where to start. The disease was so intricate and complex that it required so much time to simply break it down. To go on analyzing it, forming conclusions and then finding a cure would take _months_, and it was time she didn't have.

But she would not give up. Not now when her mother looked so much stronger than before: eyes brightening when her daughter stepped into her hospital room, fingers more nimble as they picked up the pair of chopsticks. She could do it, Sakura told herself as she hunched over the piles of notes scattered around her desk. She _had_ to.

* * *

The funeral had been a quiet affair. Sakura kept it simple, and only invited close friends and family.

Outside, the rain fell from the darkened sky onto the solid concrete ground ceaselessly. Umbrellas of all shades faced the weeping heavens as the procession continued in silence.

Ino stepped forward and placed a single daffodil in front of the grave. The others followed, each placing a single flower and murmuring a soft prayer. When it was Sakura's turn, she kneeled carefully, smoothing her skirt and lifted a hand to run the tips of her fingers down the engravings. She laid down a small bouquet of flowers, of pink carnations and peach roses.

Her gaze wavered as droplets of moisture rained onto her.

_You will forever be in my thoughts. I love you, okaa-san._

Sasuke and Naruto were there when she straightened once more, when her shoulders shook ever so slightly.

She stepped up into the refuge of the umbrella, and when she held her arms to her side, they slipped their hands into hers wordlessly. Sakura squeezed lightly, warmed by their gesture. _I'm okay_, she wanted to say.

She was content to observe the rest of the proceedings with her two brothers. Standing behind her with no book in hand, her silver-haired sensei ruffled her hair affectionately. Inwardly, she was grateful for their presence and support.

No one spoke, and the air around them was heavy with solemnity. When the end neared, Sakura began to quiver. The feeling of finality rushed over her, with the smoothness of running water. Her eyes stung but she refused to cry. She had to be strong.

A gentle smile, and her two boys bumped their foreheads against hers fondly. She was not alone, Sakura reminded herself as she stared into warm cerulean and assuring onyx.

…

"Okaa-san, can Sakura stay over for tonight?"

Sakura didn't hear Mikoto's reply as Naruto began ushering her down the hall, towards the guest rooms. She let him because she was too exhausted to protest and the large hand on her shoulder was warm and comforting.

Both Sasuke and Naruto had refused to let her go home alone, so they all decided to stay over at the Uchiha manor. To be perfectly honest, Sakura was glad they insisted on not letting her go home alone. She was afraid of going back to an empty house with four plain walls, and only her turbulent thoughts as company.

"You look dead on your feet, Sakura-chan."

Sakura only nodded, for they had arrived in the guest wing. Nudging her inside, Naruto left her by the door as he went to the dresser to take out a futon. He had just finished laying it on the floor when the door slid open and Sasuke came in with a glass of water.

Sasuke handed her the glass after leveling her with a look. "You need rest, Sakura."

It wasn't long before Naruto was pressing her shoulders down onto the futon and Sasuke was folding the blanket up to her chin. Sakura huffed, slightly amused that these two idiots were treating her like a patient when it was usually the other way around.

"I'm fine, you two."

Sasuke arched a brow, but said nothing as he reached for the emptied cup sitting on the nightstand.

"Have some rest, Sakura-chan. I'll take you for ramen tomorrow morning!" Naruto grinned, and the pinkette couldn't help smiling softly.

"Baka! Who eats ramen in the morning?"

"Shut up, teme! I do, okay, I do!"

And they were bickering sighed dreamily, and soon she was lulled to sleep as the two pairs of footsteps faded away.

…

She stirred awake sometime during the night. A glance at the clock by her bedside told her it was a little past midnight. She sat up and ran a hand distractedly through her pastel locks.

Sakura was too restless to sleep. It was no wonder, since her two teammates had pushed her to go to sleep before the sun was even down.

And now, in the solace of the night, Sakura felt all the memories, all her thoughts and feelings she pushed away since her mother's funeral breaking open the locked door and seizing her attention. She hasn't been alone since the day at the hospital. Her team made sure of that, by assigning someone to be with her all the time.

Just between Naruto pressing her to go Ichiraku's or to go training and Sasuke giving her these looks every few minutes, almost waiting for her to cling to him and snivel like a detested fangirl was enough to keep her mind off things. Not to mention Kakashi's one-eyed, sharp, contemplative gaze as he stared at her intensely and Sai's constant 'hag, why are you so ugly?' had done the job.

But now that she was truly alone, without anyone hanging by her shadows and waiting for her to break down, Sakura felt the sorrow catch up to her. There was an empty place inside her, a hollow in her chest. Her heart squeezed, and her breath hitched.

When her father died, she had been too young to understand. She had never felt the pain of losing someone close, but she knew it would be painful. But she hadn't known that it would be this agonizing.

Sakura has always been an emotional person, perhaps even more than most. The raw pain in her chest seemed so real that Sakura had to check to see whether she was actually feeling the effects of a sword wound, and not a heartache. She felt something constrict, and she realized that she hadn't been breathing for the past minute. Sucking in a few breaths, Sakura fought back a cough that would have woken anyone in the vicinity. Her vision blurred when she parted her lips, and the sensation of fire licking her throat brought tears to her eyes.

When the first tears smeared her face, it was as if the window to all the emotions inside her was unlatched in one swift motion. The tears kept on coming, and Sakura was too caught up in the whirlwind of her unsettled emotions to care. She buried her face into her shaking hands as the pale sheets around her trembled with her. Petite shoulders shook, and Sakura squeezed her eyes shut. Only the murmurs of her weeping disrupted the quiet. Not even the crickets chirped.

She didn't know how long she cried. He had masked his presence so flawlessly that she was not at all aware of him. She didn't hear the door slide open soundlessly, nor the soft footfalls that neared her distraught form. Like a phantom he came, unfettered by all else.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her shivering frame hesitantly, and a lean shoulder was offered to her. Sakura didn't care who it was, even though she had a relatively good idea who it was. The rainwater scent that surrounded her was unfamiliar, but so so soothing that she couldn't resist burying her face into his lean chest. Almost immediately, his shirt was soaked with her tears but he uttered no complaint, nor showed any concern for it.

Sakura relaxed into the slim, muscled arms that embraced her, and she was reluctant to let go of his warmth. The ends of his long hair tickled her bare nape and she felt the soft exhales of his breath on her shoulder, through the cotton fabric of her shirt. Her hands were fisted into his shirt, and as she pressed into the other, she felt his strong steady heartbeat just beneath her hands.

Sakura had always thought her teammate's brother as an apathetic and indifferent individual who held everyone, including his family at an arm's length. Though she has only been in the presence of the other a handful of times, the ANBU has never struck her as the type to allow someone he barely knew inside his personal bubble, not to mention, cry on the comforts of his shoulder like a hysterical woman.

Even when she looked back to this moment a few days or a few months later, Sakura would still be just as baffled as she was now. Yet she has been never so grateful for the company of another.

Because it was when he held her so gently, yet so securely that a wave of tranquility came over her. Emerald eyes slipped open with understanding.

Maybe some part of her has reconciled with recent events, maybe some part of her had already known that finding a cure in just a short few months was indeed a tough challenge.

She wouldn't deny that she didn't miss her mother. In a way, she had been Sakura's first friend. Spending so much time with a person, and then finding out that imminent death awaited them in just a half a year … it wasn't easy. And Sakura knew it wouldn't be.

It would take time to heal, and the long road waiting for her did not seem appealing at all… but she didn't have to do it alone.

When she shifted slightly, his arms tightened around her momentarily before he retracted them completely. Sakura pulled back, and she shivered slightly with the loss of warmth.

She lifted her gaze to regard his aristocratic features. She looked unflinchingly into his dark obsidian pools, so alike yet so different from his brother's and then, she was five all over again, seeing the enigmatic teen at the markets for the first time. The grief she recalled seeing was still there, but it was now hidden behind those reflective orbs regarding her intensely.

To her, Itachi has always been a mysteriously withdrawn individual. His cold demeanor frightened many, but Sakura tried to see past it and attempt to understand whom this puzzling person her brooding teammate worshipped dearly truly was. So far, she has established that the heir to the prestigious Uchiha clan wasn't as unfeeling and unperturbed everyone made him out to be.

Her sobs have subsided by then, and the eerie silence they fell into sparked a sudden realization in the pink-haired kunoichi.

She has been crying for the past half an hour at the very least. Shouldn't someone have heard her, and be here by now?

Itachi must have noticed her brief moment of inattention, as well as her bewilderment, for the corners of his lips quirked. The hardened skin of his thumb brushed across the apple of her dampened cheeks, fleeting like the faint glint in his dark eyes that followed the movement. When he spoke at last, his low tenor was not without amusement.

"The walls are soundproof," her companion revealed simply.

The medic-nin shook her head inwardly. _Uchihas and their humour._

* * *

Sakura prided herself in being an intelligent woman. She may not be as intuitive as Shikamaru or perceptive as Neji, but the pinkette liked to think that she was smart and rational.

Her kind of smart was book-smart. She has passed all written exams with flying colours, and she could memorise scrolls and scrolls of medical knowledge. She was capable in other areas as well. Though she wasn't as skilled as her other teammates on the battlefield, Sakura could easily hold her own since Tsunade has taken her under her wing. But there was one thing; one aspect in life that her best friend and rival _helpfully_ pointed out that the pink haired lady was hopeless at.

Almost every single of their encounters started off with Ino taking a jab at Sakura's love life, or lack thereof.

It wasn't that Sakura was against the idea of being in a relationship or anything of the like. She knew she had a few admirers along the way, but unlike Ino, Sakura wanted to find 'the one.' She didn't want any flings or one-night-stands because really, it would definitely feel great at that single point in time, but not so great if she were to think back to it. She was too emotional and attached as a person to feel the pleasure of meeting someone, and then not seeing or hearing from them again after the night.

She certainly didn't mind going on occasional dates with a few men, but for some reason they all seem to pull out the last minute. Of course, it was thanks to her team that she was still single and not been laid. The farthest she has gone was a simple kiss!

Sakura appreciated her team's protectiveness over her and really, it was enough to make a girl feel special. It was sweet and heartwarming but if they kept it up, the entire male species would flee at the sight of her.

Even if she was fortunate enough to snag a date with a man who possessed a decent amount of courage, having been able to withstand Sasuke's pointed glares and Naruto's fierce display of threats, it would still end in her date's abrupt getaway and her plummeting her two teammates into the ground.

She hasn't been too put off by her team's stunts and spying, because it was actually quite entertaining watching them try so hard. She hasn't taken any of her dates seriously, she just wanted to spend some time with someone new and get to know them a little. But her flippant attitude quickly changed whenever her thoughts strayed to _him_.

She found her intrigue for the sharingan-wielding, raven haired ANBU captain still hasn't changed. Her childish curiosity has blossomed into something more, and Sakura no longer has control over it.

It wasn't just physical attraction, Sakura surmised because she'd been in the company of quite a few handsome individuals her whole life. Naruto, with his untroubled grins and captivating aura, not to mention the manner in which his golden locks twinkled in the sun, had found his way to the shy Hyuuga heiress. Sasuke had his charming good looks, but Sakura smirked at the fact that he was just as single as she was. There were many others, such as the noble ANBU captain Neji, the quiet and observant Shino and even the intimidating red-haired Kazekage, good friend to Naruto, who visited Konoha from time to time.

In their presence, Sakura wasn't at all fazed. She liked to think that she was past her fangirling days, and that she was now a grown and confident twenty-two year old woman. It came as an astounding surprise that she was most definitely not.

More often than not, she found her treacherous heart skipping a beat whenever she received a pleasant visit from her stoic teammate's sibling, whether she was with her team for lunch or at the hospital as his medic. Forest green eyes snuck ephemeral glances at his serene patrician features when he angled his head away from her, or his proud profile as he excused himself from the Hokage's office after receiving a mission.

Her eyes lingered on his prominent lines of stress rather than his intense eyes when he spoke to her, in his low tone of voice that never failed to make her skin tingle. Her fingers sought to slip into his long silken hair that fell onto his lean back, eager to feel its softness under her palms.

Perhaps this was what Ino was talking about, finding the man in your dreams. Her thoughts strayed to the princess stories every child has heard of, the gallant princes on high horses every girl dreamed of and the happily-ever-afters that came with the concluding pages. Was she one of them too?

Emerald eyes caught ever dip of a smile, every softening of his gaze, every faint shuffle of his clothes as he reached up to run his slender fingers down his ebony hair and every twirl he executed against an enemy-nin. So captivated was she by those mere gestures and simple acts that Sakura failed to realize how deeply she had fallen.

A glance and she found herself mesmerized by those crimson orbs, how the darkness warped through the blood-red hues. Those tomoe spinning lazily as they saw the imminent death of the enemy. Sakura couldn't look away; couldn't tear her eyes or her attention away.

Like a thief, he stole her heart away.

Her childish curiosity was still there, lingering under the surface and never fading.

She remembered how he had let her sob in his arms when her mother had passed, his silent temperament soothing away her woe. And when he turned to her, his obsidian eyes flickering with something too fugitive she hadn't given any thought to it, the breath left her. And she found all her moments alone, when she twirled a strand of bubble-gum hair around her finger, afflicted with the thoughts of him. Like a lovelorn child, Sakura longed for something more.

It had never occurred to her that it had been love. So simple an explanation, so unsurprising a reason that Sakura felt her heart lighten with revelation. A wistful smile settled upon her delicate features, and she was unafraid to accept this newfound admission.

It had to be something. Ever since the day she laid eyes on him and she knew it was something more than she had thought it to be then. Every time she entered a room, her eyes sweeping across in search for something, she wouldn't be able to curb the pink blush from tinting her cheeks when she spotted him in the shadows, aloof and striking. Her pulse would flutter when she found herself in close proximity with the other, and she would wonder if he could hear her jumbling thoughts.

Her reaction had scared her at first. It was foreign, and she had never been or felt this way before. Never had she been so tongue tied with another man that she stumbled over her words. Her teammates had been so shocked by this that they had curtly dragged her all the way back to her apartment, leaving an amused Itachi behind.

Sakura had dodged all their questions though, but she was sure that she hadn't convinced anybody, if the light flush on her face was anything to go by when she uttered the ANBU's name every so often. Even her blond friend hadn't been persuaded by her flimsy excuses, and he swore to lodge a kunai into the Uchiha heir the next time he dared to look in the kunoichi's way. Sakura had huffed indignantly, before kicking them all out of her apartment.

Now, five months later and Sakura was really debating whether to hit herself for being such a–_she made a face_–fangirl. She wasn't any different from the typical girls who literally bowed at the man's feet, fumbling over their words and blushing like annoying admirers. Some nights, the feeling nibbling at her was so great that she just couldn't sleep. And when her thoughts directed themselves at him, she turned on her stomach and with her face in her pillow, screamed in frustration.

Where had the strong and self-assured Haruno Sakura go? How on earth could she have acted thusly?

So disgruntled by her abnormal and silly behavior that Sakura had pondered on confronting the Uchiha and apologizing for her ill-thought actions, only to find the man on a long mission in Iwa. Sakura had sunk her fingers into her scalp, tugging at her petal tresses in vexation when Tsunade had informed her.

Too immersed in her mental cursing, she had been unaware of the knowing look her teacher had given her. Smirking and barely holding back an evil cackle, which would most definitely raise her student's suspicions, Tsunade had smugly reclined into her chair. Ah, young love.

Those five months had been a mess for the rose-haired medic. She had been more than ready to confront the stoic Uchiha with the issue at hand. Finding out that he was not even in the village anymore had made Sakura more frustrated than ever. Just when she decided to–

A spar. The idea had barely presented itself to her when Sakura darted for the training grounds, hopeful to find anyone to spar with. To her luck, Sasuke had been throwing kunai after kunai at the post and looking utterly bored out of his mind when she made her appearance.

…

"Oi Forehead! If you don't come out right now, I'm coming in!"

After much fumbling and tugging at her attire, the rosette threw open the door and shot her best friend a glare. Dressed in a creamy yukata with pale flowerets wreathing from the back and ending at the seam of the garb, Sakura was given a nod of approval by the blonde.

"Not bad, Sakura. I was convinced that I had to save your sorry butt again tonight!"

Sticking her tongue out at the other, Sakura made for her apartment door with the talkative kunoichi in tow. After locking the door and slipping into their sandals, the pair headed towards the heart of the village, towards the spring festival.

Sakura hadn't been inclined to attend, what with her team away on a mission, she was likely to be going alone. Ino had known her predicament, and was quick to whisk her still very much single friend to meet some guys. And where better than at the spring festival–the very place _swarming _with the opposite gender?

Her refusal had been at the tip of her tongue when Sakura realized the benefits of meeting a potential date. Her feelings for Itachi were still hopelessly invasive, and what better than to find another man to banish those very emotions? The likelihood of finding a possible match within the crowded throngs of people present at the festival was improbable at best… but what if she met 'the one' at the festival? If she didn't go, she may have well thrown away the chance of a happily ever after. So she had agreed, on the condition she chose what to wear, without the blonde's intervention.

Now, as the two stood before the portal erected at the entrance of the festival, Sakura gasped at the sheer beauty her village bathed in with the arrival of spring. Magnificent red and enchanting golden spiraled up the pillars that stood, and the entire district was ablaze with fervor. The tall sakura trees stretched its branches over the crest so that the ethereal glow of the moon was partly veiled. Nonetheless, the celestial orb still shone as brightly and vividly as ever, displaying its splendor to any who should glimpse it.

Before long, a Shikamaru clad in blue arrived to pick up his girlfriend, all the while muttering what a drag it was to be here. Ino merely pecked him on the cheek before his complaints ceased. Sakura, not at all troubled by the scarcity of a familiar companion sought to enjoy herself as much as possible, making her way down the illumined streets.

After buying a small bag of cotton candy, the petal-haired beauty was popping some into her mouth as she strolled on. She turned her head, marveling at the amount of people who have gathered at this one place. Sakura waved whenever she spotted someone she knew.

She saw that Genma and Shizune were chatting amiably by a restaurant, while Neji and Tenten were having fun scooping goldfish. A gentle smile had made its way to the Hyuuga's lips as he eyed his companion, and Sakura found herself grinning at them willfully. Choji was making his way to every food stall with Kiba accompanying him but Akamaru nowhere in sight.

She was trying to locate Ino and Shikamaru, but having no luck. She was so absorbed in her search that she was paying much attention to where she was going. Bumping into a warm body, Sakura was so startled that she lost her footing–curse her tight cut-out clothing–when a strong grip on her forearm halted her fall.

Her head already bowed, Sakura thanked whomever she had collided into before raising her verdant eyes. "Thank you, I apologise for my–"

Pastel strands fell away to reveal the object of her frustration for the past five months. Clothed in his ANBU gear, Uchiha Itachi regarded the kunoichi wordlessly, almost anticipating for her reaction to his unannounced appearance. Of course, her response to seeing the ANBU captain at the festival hadn't failed to entertain him.

Sakura's jaw slackened, before she pulled herself together and managed to stammer in greeting, "I-Itachi-san!"

"Sakura-san," Itachi nodded regally with a smile on his lips. Sakura found her eyes wandering over his fatigued features; the strong crescent defining his angled jawline, his high cheekbones hinting the curve of his pallid cheeks and the sleek lengthy locks cascading from the crown of his head, immaculate despite the long traveling. "Are you well?"

"Yes!" Sakura winced inwardly at the sudden pitch her voice had ascended. _Get a grip pinky!_ Inner Sakura was livid at being such a schoolgirl; a_ damsel. _Smiling herself, the medic side of her was already inspecting him for injuries as she asked, "back from a mission?"

Before Itachi could dignify her with an answer, Sakura was already tugging him towards a secluded part of the festival. They left the joyful revels as they stepped into an arresting field the moonlight painted. Sakura barely took note of the light dancing around them or the lit lanterns dangling above as she motioned for the Uchiha to sit on the wooden bench.

When he did, she called forth her chakra and immediately her hand glowed an iridescent shade. Placing her palm on his upper arm, she quickly knitted the wound that had sliced through his sleeve, and deep into the skin.

Done, Sakura made a move to sit beside him when Itachi spoke.

"Were you enjoying the festival?"

The kunoichi looked up at the unexpected question, clearly taken aback. It took only a moment for her to grasp the origins of the inquiry.

With that, a tender smile fell onto her pale features. He had been rueful for having her to heal him while she could have been enjoying the festivities, and at this, Sakura found herself remembering all the times she felt her body warming with this feeling. Just this glimpse into the gentle person hidden behind all those layers of detachment and impassiveness was enough to remind her why she had been fascinated by him in the first place.

And before she knew it, Sakura was voicing the very words she longed to speak.

"Ever since the first time I've seen you, I have found myself drawn to you."

Her eyes were glued to the shadows casted in the light, even when she felt his eyes shift to land on her. She leaned forward and gripped the bench tightly, her knuckles going an ashen tinge.

She had to get it off her chest now, or she'd chicken out later. Ino's goading voice floated in her mind, and Sakura swallowed thickly.

"I…" She risked a glance at his stilled form, wondering if she was making a fool of herself after all. She found starless eyes fixed on her, and if possible, they seemed to have taken a darker shade. Staring into those midnight depths made her heart race, and Sakura swiftly lowered her gaze so that they rested on his collarbones. She drew a shaky breath, and her eyes slipped shut.

When she finally said it, it was with a low murmur.

"I think I like you." It was barely a whisper over the distant chanting from afar, but it just felt right.

She didn't open her eyes. It would just break her if she saw rejection on his features, or worse, if she found indifference. It would simply mean that her words, _her feelings _meant nothing to him, and she could not take that right now.

Sakura stumbled out of her thoughts, startled and muddled when gentle feathery fingers pressed lightly onto the side of her cheek. When the first flares threw shafts of light across her soft planes, Itachi was at once reminded of how many times he had glanced upon her maiden countenance, but never truly grasping how young and riveting she looked.

Where his fingers touched, her skin flamed a dusty cherry. Her eyes flew open, and her breath hitched when she saw him surprisingly near. The low lilt to his tone, and his breath brushing against hers sent butterflies flitting in her belly.

"I am already well aware of that."

She was given no time to catch her breath when the meaning behind his words, spoken so complacently occurred to her. She glimpsed the slight curl in his lips before they grazed hers ever so softly, the blistering crackles of the fireworks painting the rich shades of harlequins skyward.


End file.
